Tomorrow Comes Today
by FallingStar93
Summary: Two months after being declared MIA, MI6 give up all hope that Alex Rider is still among the living - until the SAS stumble upon the now-eighteen-year old on a remote island. But can they truly rescue him when the enemy is pulling all the strings?
1. Prologue

**Title:** Tomorrow Comes Today  
**Summary: **Two months into a mission, Alex Rider was declared MIA. Two months after that, he was declared dead. But no one would ever forget that Alex Rider's luck of the devil had kept him alive, against the odds, for over a year previously…  
**Rating: **T for violence/abuse  
**Disclaimer**: Yeah, definitely not British. And I'm female, thanks. Not to mention that I don't even have a copy of Stormbreaker… or Scorpia… or Snakehead… or Scorpia Rising…. In case you didn't get it, I didn't write the Alex Rider series. Title isn't even technically mine, either; it comes from 12 Stones' "Tomorrow Comes Today."

**A/N:** Okay, so haven't read the books in a while; my apologies in advance if something doesn't line up. Just let me know if you see anything, and I'll attempt to fix it (as long as it doesn't interfere with the plot..). It's not a totally original plot, either; I've seen it done before. But, hopefully, I'll have enough surprises to keep you interested in reading. (Considering I came up with this idea while listening to Saosin's 'Seven Years', you never know what I'll come up with, I guess…) Also, this story assumes that Scorpia Rising happened but that Alex didn't leave to live with the Pleasures afterwards and continued to work for MI6. This chapter is more of a prologue/teaser/preview due to the fact that I have so many on-going fanfictions that I'm unsure when I will continue this, but I just couldn't ignore that little plot bunny… Anyway, you didn't click to listen to me talk; enjoy!

* * *

_One Month After Alex Rider Was Declared MIA_

"How does it feel, little Alex," his captor tormented, "to know that no one is coming for you? MI6, I'm sure, has given up the search by now – _long _before now!"

Alex glanced down at the floor. He didn't want to admit it, but he knew the man was right; it certainly wasn't the first time MI6 had simply just _not _sent back-up. He was on his own, just like always. Sure, they would come eventually – he was sure of that; they always did – it was simply a matter of waiting. But the situation still unnerved him; he had sent a distress call over a month ago – it had never taken this long for back-up before. "I wouldn't know," he retorted, resuming eye contact. "They'll come; you just wait. Then you'll be sorry you ever picked a fight with me."

The man cackled. "Really? If I remember correctly, _you _picked a fight with _me._ _You're _the one who tried to infiltrate _my _'business.' And you may have faith in your agency now, but let's just see if you still do when, six months from now, you're still here. You see, little Alex, you can't trust anyone – not even the people you work for who are supposed to have your back. They all turn away in the end when it's inconvenient for them to rescue you. You'll see, little Alex; you'll see."

"I don't believe you," Alex maintained in a level tone. _It's true, and you know it,_ a voice in his head whispered. _They aren't coming for you._ "They'll come."

The man leaned closer until his face was only inches from Alex's. "You keep believing that all you want, but you know I'm right." _He's right. _"They will never come for you." _They aren't coming. _"Maybe the Great Alex Rider was worth something to them once, but you're getting too old and too well known to be of any use to them." _You have t__oo many enemies now._ "Why would they risk so much for so little?" _They wouldn't._

Alex turned his gaze away. He didn't want to believe his captor's words. But he already knew the man spoke truth. _Cold, hard truth._ "You'll see," he barely whispered. "They'll come."

* * *

_Two Months Later_

"Still believe your precious MI6 is going to rescue you, little Alex?" the man taunted from where he stood over the bloodied body of a boy, lying on the floor, breathing hard from the pain and shivering. "Do you still really believe they care anything about getting you back? Think about it: You're Britain's best-kept secret; if you're dead, they don't have to cover you up anymore because there's nothing to cover up. My offer still stands, little Alex; join me! Tell me what you know about MI6, and, together, we can do so much more!"

Alex lifted his head from the floor, glaring daggers at his captor. "Go to Hell. I already know that as soon as you have what you want, you'll kill me. Even if MI6 _did _abandon me, I'm not telling you anything! That's the coward's way out."

The man frowned. "So be it. It's not my death fast approaching. Your acclaimed 'luck of the devil' has run out, boy. You won't be getting out of this alive – and, rest assured, that it will be a slow and painful death indeed! If, by some miracle, someone were to find your body, there won't be enough left of it to identify you. It's a shame really, to waste someone so talented. But so be it, little Alex; so be it."

* * *

**A/N: **So, I've seen this done, and I kind of like the idea… So: Challenge time!

_Who is Alex's captor/tormenter?_

In the future I'll have more than one, but since this is so short…

Anyway, thanks for reading, and don't forget to review! =)


	2. Chapter 1 Beginning Of The End

**Title:** Tomorrow Comes Today  
**Summary: **Two months into a mission, Alex Rider was declared MIA. Two months after that, he was declared dead. But no one would ever forget that Alex Rider's luck of the devil had kept him alive, against the odds, for over two years previously…  
**Rating: **T for violence/abuse  
**Disclaimer**: I'd love to, but, unfortunately, authors don't like to share. Nor do musicians.  
**A/N:** Little bit longer this time – and they'll keep getting longer as more action happens, don't worry! And you people should definitely feel the love here, okay? I decided to work on this one over my other fanfics. So love me back? Please? Challenge again at the bottom! =)

* * *

_"We walk alone_  
_In the unknown_  
_We live to win another victory_  
_Our sacred scars_  
_Show who we are_  
_It's time to face it_

_"So be afraid_  
_It's the price we pay_  
_The only easy day was yesterday"_

_~12 Stones: We Are One_

* * *

**Chapter One – Beginning Of The End**

_Three Months Earlier - The Royal and General Bank, London_

Alex sighed in defeat. "Don't even bother," he interrupted. "I'll just accept it now so you don't have to waste your time and mine giving all the reasons why I can't say no."

"Good," Mrs. Jones stated as if she had expected him to interrupt right then. "Here is everything you need to know about your alias." She handed him a plain manila envelope. "You'll be leaving promptly at 8:45 tomorrow morning, via the Eurostar headed for Paris. I have arranged Agent Daniels to take you to the camp; he is posing as your guardian when you get there. After he drops you off, he will be staying in the nearest town in case you require back-up – which you shouldn't since it's just surveillance."

"Yeah," Alex scoffed. "It's always 'just surveillance!' Just promise you won't pull out my back-up before _I _get out of there, like on that one mission…"

"You know I wouldn't ask you if I had any other option, Alex; you are simply the easiest way to infiltrate that camp. Besides," she sighed, "maybe it'll be good for you."

"What?" Alex asked, eyebrow raised in question. "'Good for me?' What are you saying? People are going missing!"

"That's not what I meant and you know it. You've been through a lot in the last three years, Alex."

"So you're saying I need mental help in other words," he retorted dryly. "I am doing just fine, thank you. And before you try to sound like you care even one iota, keep in mind that whatever you think is wrong with me is _your fault._ I didn't volunteer for this, after all." He paused for a moment. "Anything else, or can I go find Smithers? I've no doubt he's come up with a few things for me."

Mrs. Jones sighed inwardly. She couldn't deny that he was right. "No, Alex; everything else you need to know is in the envelope."

He stood and exited to find one of two people at MI6 he didn't actually hate. Smithers was, of course, in his office when Alex found him, though Alex knew before he even had a chance to knock. As he stood outside the closed door, he heard a faint voice call out: "Alex, my boy! Come right in!" He pushed open the door, an expression of slight surprise on his face. "How did you know…?"

Smithers chuckled. "I have invented a camera so small that it was hidden in the center of the door knob! Go ahead; look! You won't be able to see it, my boy!"

Alex grinned as he bent over and, sure enough, couldn't find the tiny camera. That was just like Smithers. "So, what have you got for me this time?" he asked straightening back up and moving further into the office, closing the door behind him.

Smithers sighed. "You may be my favorite operative to design for, but I still wish Jones would stop." He shook his head. "I thought, surely, once Blunt was gone that she would let you be… Well, can't do anything about that, but I can, at least, give you some sort of help – if you could call it that. Luckily for you, this particular place allows you to bring in your own electronics; that made it so much easier for me this time around! Not like that one mission where the only items you were allowed were your own clothes and shoes… That one was a nightmare! Anyway, on to the gadgets, as I know you're simply dying to find out what I've come up with!

"I know some of them are repeats, but I keep finding ways to improve them! This iPod, of course, can still be used to scan for bugs – I kept that handy little feature – but it's also equipped with knock-out gas that'll put an adult out for a good ten minutes. Just pull out the ear buds and hold down the center button for three seconds; the gas will be emitted through where you would normally plug in the charge cord – although you can still do that too; I wouldn't want you to run out of battery while listening to music or scanning a room for bugs! The last feature, of course, is being able to listen to conversations up to 300 meters away. This is accessible by going under 'Extras' to 'Voice Memos.'" He handed the iPod to Alex. "Oh! I almost forgot!" He pulled out a pair of ear buds. "These are very special ear buds, so you have to be careful with them. If you pull off the section that fits into your ear, you now have three seconds to throw it before this little bomb detonates. It's not enough to truly _injure _someone – Jones won't let me do that, after all – but, let's just say, it's certainly not going to feel _pleasant_."

Handing the ear buds over, Smithers then pulled out a slim, touch-screen phone. "Looks ordinary enough, and, to a certain extent, it mostly _is _ordinary, to be honest. This will be how you get out a distress call, should you need it. You simply hold down the number you want it sent to for three seconds. Speed dial number two is Ben; obviously he'll be the closest to your location so he's the first person you'd contact. If, by some off chance, he is unable to respond to the call, speed dial number three is a direct alert to Mrs. Jones." He paused to sigh. When he continued, his voice was much lower. "But, between you and me, we both know how reliable she's been in the past to get back-up to you, so, in that case, speed dial number four is a direct alert to me." He returned his voice to normal volume. "And, of course, you can make regular calls and such on it. As a matter of fact, I couldn't help but already download a few fun games for you –not that they really have any purpose… Except for one, of course! I have Temple Run on here; it functions as both the game as well as can automatically scan whatever building you're in and create a map, all in about ten seconds. So if you're trying to escape and don't know which way to go… Problem solved! One last handy feature: It's finger-print sensitive. If anyone takes it from you, it automatically sends an alert to all three of us and will transmit a tracking signal for up to 48 hours – but that's only if they try to get access to anything on it."

"Which is beneficial if someone takes everything from me then takes me somewhere away from the camp," Alex mused, taking the phone. "If they try to figure out if I've contacted anyone, then you'll still know where I am. But, at the same time, if I simply drop it and someone finds it, it won't send a warning to you just because they pick it up to return it."

Smithers nodded. "Exactly. Now, last, but certainly not least –" he hefted a black shoulder bag onto the desk between them – "we have this!" Unzipping one of the pockets, he produced a black Dell Inspiron laptop. "An item perfectly normal for a seventeen-year old to possess: a laptop! Anything you type in a typical Microsoft Word document will be automatically sent to Mrs. Jones and Ben. The network this computer is enabled under is so encrypted I doubt even Scorpia would have the technology to crack it. Therefore, anything you send is secure. You can also use it to listen to conversations, should it prove more convenient than the iPod. To access that feature, you go to your menu bar, 'All Programs' to the folder 'Accessories;' in that folder, there is a program called 'Sound Recorder.' Not only can you listen, but you can record the call for listening later. The keypad is also print-sensitive – like on the phone – so if anyone tries to access it and actually gets past the password, the hard drive will self-destruct; it'll just look like something shorted out, however. Right before that happens, a signal will be sent to Ben so at least someone will know that you no longer have access to it, as well as acting as a type of distress call because, obviously, if someone is trying to gain access to your computer then someone is on to you." He placed the computer back into the bag.

Alex frowned slightly. "You know something, don't you? Something Jones didn't tell me. Having so many ways to send for back-up… That's not normal. What do you know, Smithers?"

The man sighed. "Very perceptive, Alex; no wonder you're one of the best in the business. Look, I'm not allowed to tell you what Jones told me." He lowered his voice again. "Although, she never said I couldn't paraphrase. This mission is dangerous, Alex. There's a good possibility that you'll be caught – recognized, more than likely – considering your, ah, _fame _in the network of terrorist organizations."

"Then why are they sending me?" Alex interrupted. "There has to be another way! Something that will be more likely to succeed than this obvious shot in the dark!"

Smithers could certainly understand the boy's hesitation – not to mention the fact that he knew Alex was as sick of going on these suicide missions as Smithers was of seeing MI6 send him. "I know, my boy; I know," he sighed. "Believe me; I tried to talk Jones out of it when she sent me a memo to get gadgets ready for you. She's convinced it's the only way."

Alex sighed, running a hand through his hair in defeat. "It always is," he mumbled. He picked up the black laptop bag and swung it over one shoulder. "Thank you, Smithers."

"Just come home safe, my boy. _Bon courage._"

* * *

_Ian Rider's House in Chelsea_

Alex sat at the kitchen table of his uncle's home, reading the file Mrs. Jones had provided for him. His alias certainly wouldn't be difficult to play out this time; he could almost just act like normal.

_Name: André du Pont  
__Age: 17  
__Hair Color: Black  
__Eye Color: Green_

It was a good thing Alex still had hair dye and colored contacts from a previous mission. He sighed; it looked like he was going to need them again – unfortunately.

_Family: Deceased. (See Pg. 4)  
__Guardian: Benjamin Favre (See Pg. 5)  
__Personality: Silent, secluded, unmotivated, uncaring, unemotional – cold  
__Reason for Admittance: Has attempted suicide on multiple occasions. (See Pg. 6)  
__Mission: Investigate the disappearance of teens from mental health facility._

Alex couldn't help but scoff; that wasn't so far off from the truth. Some of the missions MI6 had assigned him could _definitely _be classed as attempted suicide – though since it wasn't his choice, wouldn't that actually make it attempted murder? He had to wonder at that. He sat back in the chair and rubbed his eyes tiredly. It was going to be a long night of preparation…

* * *

_A Road in the South of France_

It was going on 1:30 when Ben finally pulled onto a gravel road that would take them to the camp. Alex was exhausted from staying up most of the night but hadn't been able to sleep the entire trip; over the years he'd grown a little paranoid of every passing person (though he would never admit to it as more than a 'heightened sense for self-preservation') and, as such, hadn't been able to sleep. Luckily for him, French came easily to him as his uncle had taught him that language – and many others – from a very young age. At least that was one thing he shouldn't have to worry about.

"Alright, _André_," Ben spoke to him, using his alias, "once more: _Quel âge as-tu?_" _How old are you?_

"_J'ai dix-sept ans_," came the automatic answer.

"Who am I?"

"Benjamin Favre. No relation. All my family is deceased; my parents were killed in a car accident; my only uncle, in a boating accident. You're the son of a friend of my father's. Not married. No kids."

"Why are you here?"

"_Tu n'a besoin pas de savoir_." _You don't need to know._

Ben smiled, both at the answer and at how easily – _flawlessly_ – Alex seemed to transition between the two languages. "Yeah, I guess that is probably what any teenager would say to anyone who wanted to know."

Alex sighed, leaning his head back against the headrest on the seat. "I just want this to be over…"

The younger sensed Ben tense beside him so subtly that the average civilian would never have noticed, but nothing seemed to escape Alex anymore – a thought that silently disturbed him. "Believe me," Ben finally spoke, "I don't particularly want you go in there either. But that's why I'm here. I told Jones that I was going whether she would allow it or not. I'll only be ten minutes away, Alex, okay? If something goes wrong…"

"I know," he sighed. "But let's hope nothing does."

* * *

_Un Foyer Pour La Guérison Boys' Dormatory_

Alex – _André – _lay staring up at the ceiling of his new room and sighed. The first day hadn't been horrible, exactly – just not that great either. It had mostly consisted of a tour of the grounds, meeting with his counselor, eating dinner, then back to his room to unpack. So far there had been nothing suspicious to report. Darkness had since fallen, and though Alex was exhausted, he found himself unable to sleep. He knew he needed the rest, but details of the mission he had been sent to complete wouldn't stop swirling inside his mind, every possible thing that could go wrong eagerly presenting itself to him – someone recognizing him being the forefront thought.

He sighed again, turning on his side and reaching down to pull out his laptop bag from where he had stowed it earlier. Maybe listening to music would help take his mind off what he was here to do. He inserted the ear buds into his ears, turned on the device, and hit shuffle. The music quickly and efficiently drowned out his thoughts, and, as 'Tomorrow Comes Today' by 12 Stones played, he found himself blissfully slipping into oblivion.

He never heard when someone silently opened his door.

* * *

**A/N: **Just so ya know, some basic French is going to crop up here and there in this chapter as well as ones to follow (because very basic French is all I know…). Don't worry; it'll either be so simple that you'll still be able to figure it out or I'll have the translation behind it in italics (otherwise everything said that is in italics is said in French). For anyone who does speak French, yes, I did purposely use the informal form of 'you' because he and Ben are well acquainted. Why am I doing this? 'Cause I think it's fun! *Winks*

For those of you who are not European, the Eurostar is train line from what I understand. Hey, I'm not European either, so… But I looked it up! Apparently the trip from London to Paris is two hours, fifteen minutes.

And the name of the place he's at? True story: That's a place near my home town; I just translated it to French. In Enlgish: A Hearth for Healing. Really cheesy, I know.

Challenges: Who just entered Alex's room? What are the person's intentions?

You already know that his cover gets blown; how does this happen? Or do they already know who he is?

Hmm… I'm afraid I'm not much good at this whole challenge thing ^^; …Pointers anyone?


	3. Chapter 2 In The End

******Title:** Tomorrow Comes Today**  
****Summary: **Two months into a mission, Alex Rider was declared MIA. Two months after that, he was declared dead. But no one would ever forget that Alex Rider's luck of the devil had kept him alive, against the odds, for over a year previously…**  
****Rating: **T for violence/abuse**  
****Disclaimer**: Since I failed to get the rights for my birthday in May, I guess I'll have to hold out for Christmas.

**A/N: **Hello, all! Thanks for coming back! =) Special thanks to Blissful Winter for reviewing, as well as to everyone who added this story to their alerts/favorites!  
After all, reviewing = happy writer = motivation! ...Although, however motivated I might be, I'm going to be pretty busy in the coming weeks... Just a head's up that it might be a while. (Actually, it probably won't be. I have the bad habit of working on fanfics before doing other, more important things... Like now, for example.) Anyway, enjoy! =)  
Soiler Alert: Vague reference to Scorpia Rising, but since this is set after the final book, I would have thought this might be obvious...

* * *

_"Oh, how did I get stuck in this predicament, I don't know.  
I want to throw this repetition out the window.  
I'm gettin' tired, of wondering why I'm still here._

_"And I wish that I could,_  
_Snap my fingers, make myself disappear._  
_Snap my fingers, get myself out of here._  
_Snap my fingers, snap my fingers. Oh, oh._

_"'Cause I'd rather be anywhere else, anywhere else,_  
_Anywhere else but here._  
_I'd rather be anywhere else, anywhere else,_  
_Anywhere else but here._  
_I could be catching a wave,_  
_I could be seeing the world._  
_I could be riding with the top down, kissing my girl._  
_I could be anywhere else, anywhere else,_  
_Anywhere else but here."  
__~Simple Plan: Anywhere Else But Here_

* * *

**Chapter Two – In The End**

_One Month Later – Un Foyer Pour La Guérison_

Alex leisurely leaned back against a tree in the court yard, flipping open his laptop. The chilly, autumn air bit through his light jacket, but he couldn't stand to be indoors any longer. When he sat indoors, people always wanted to talk to him – make friends or something – and that was the last thing Alex wanted – not to mention that wanting to talk to anyone was the opposite of the solid alias he had been building up for the past month. Hence why he was sitting outside: Everyone else was inside so no one would bother him. Sighing, he opened up a Word document and, for what felt like the millionth time, typed 'Nothing to report.' He was really starting to believe that Jones had sent him here not on a mission but because she truly thought he was messed up and needed mental help. He gritted his teeth. He was handling himself just _fine. _ Just because he had watched the two people closest to him die right in front of his eyes – not to mention basically having to shoot himself – on top of everything he'd been through on missions, that didn't mean he needed help, after all…

His thoughts were interrupted as a door behind him slammed shut, and he heard footsteps on the porch. He groaned inwardly; someone must have notice him slip out the door – probably his counselor – and wasn't happy about it. The man was always telling him he needed to be more social. And break his cover? Pffft. Not a chance! But that theory was dashed when he heard a voice speaking too low for him to make out the words, but the tone spoke volumes making Alex curious as to the nature of the conversation. As he fished in his bag for his ear buds, he opened the program on his laptop.

"—_alone. We can speak freely now,"_ the man spoke in fluent French. With a start, Alex recognized the voice – Monsieur Bouchard, _his _counselor. He must not have known Alex was sitting out here, but, he reasoned, everyone else was inside, turned off by the chill… _"Of course, Sir. I definitely have some teens that'll due, I believe. As always, many of them are already suicidal so it shouldn't be difficult to convince them to work for us." _A pause. _"The ones that aren't? They don't want to be here anyway; they'll simply 'go missing' – run away – just like always. No one will ever know what has happened. Yes, Sir, I shall extract them in the usual manner. Au revoir." _Alex heard footsteps again, then the closing of a door.

He pulled the ear buds out of his ears. 'Well,' he thought wryly, 'at least I really do have a mission here…' Without another thought, he reopened the Word document and typed, 'I lied. I have something of interest.' Then he opened his email, attached the sound file, and sent it to both Mrs. Jones and Ben. Knowing he wouldn't get a response from either of them, he closed his laptop with sigh. What now? Of course he already knew: He'd investigate, get into trouble, save his own butt at the last second. That seemed to always be the way it worked. He couldn't deny that he was curious, of course, so it only made sense that he would start to plan his next move…

* * *

_Midnight – Boys' Dormitory_

Alex quietly slipped out of bed and into his shoes. Grabbing both his phone and his iPod with ear buds, he stowed them into the pocket of the sweatshirt he was wearing. He crept to the door and listened intently for anyone in the corridor before slowly opening the door, looking down the hall both directions, and slipping out into the dark passage. His heart kicked up a notch as adrenaline pumped through his system; if he was caught out here not only would he lose this chance to find out what was going on, but he would be in a heap of trouble for being out of his room after curfew. Thankfully, he made it down the hall to the staircase without incident.

When he reached the main floor, he bypassed the front door, knowing full-well that opening it would trigger an alarm, and headed for the small security office on the opposite side of the lobby area. Just as he suspected, the night watchman was fast asleep, his feet propped up on the desk. Not that he had ever doubted the man would be asleep; Alex had crept about the halls at night before when, find the confines of his tiny room unbearable, he couldn't seem to sleep and had seen the watchman catching some zz's every time. Allowing himself a small smile, he stepped into the room, quickly disabled the alarm, and walked back out again, all the while listening to the man snore.

He reached the main building where all of the counselors' offices were located without any problem; knowing where all the cameras were certainly made it simple to avoid them, and Alex had known where every single one was by the end of the third day. But, Alex figured, if the night watchman of the main building was anything like the one for the boys' dorm, he really didn't have to worry anyway.

He quickly picked the lock, opened the door, and disabled the alarm via a security panel next to the door. Luck was on his side tonight; so far the security systems had been simple at best to bypass. That thought in mind, he didn't dare let down his guard as he crept silently down the hallway to Monsieur Bouchard's office. The lock on the office door was also almost surprisingly easy to pick. _Too easy,_ Alex thought, a feeling of dread creeping into the pit of his stomach. But as he silently pushed the door open, entered, and closed the door again behind him, he forced the feeling down, telling himself that they simply weren't fearful of being found out.

Sitting down at the desk, he pulled the top drawer open, only to find blank paper, files, pencils, pens, and other office supplies. He silently shut it and opened the drawer under the first. _This _proved to be more useful. The inside of the drawer housed file after file of the patients Monsieur Bouchard had taken on. He pulled out the first three and flipped them open to the first page. He almost gasped in surprise.

One of the three had supposedly committed suicide. The other two had 'run away' and had been declared dead after several months of searching without success. He pulled out the next three files to find almost the same. And the three after that… And the thirteen after that…

Going back to the first few, he started to read the files. The first one – one who had taken his own life – had come to the center of his own free will for help. He had been there for two months before disappearing and supposedly being found a few days later, having taken his life. The second teenaged boy had supposedly run away from the center three months after being admitted. As he continued to read them, he soon found that all of the files held relatively the same story. And, Alex noted as glanced at the physical descriptions, they were all physically fit and strong. What in the world was going on here? He had to wonder…

And then he came across his own file. Panic rose, but he fought it down as he flipped it open.

Alex's head snapped up as, in the corner of his eye, he saw the door swing open. "_Well, well, well; what have we here?"_ a voice spoke from the doorway in French.

Alex's head shot up in surprise. How had he not heard Monsieur Bouchard approach the office? It was unsettling to him; after all, the only people he had ever met who could move so quietly were spies and assassins. He opened his mouth to come up with some sort of reason for his being there at that time of night, much more the files spread out before him, only to find he couldn't come up with anything. 'Think, Alex, think!' he mentally scolded himself. Yet, with his gaze held by his counselor's, he found he could hardly think at all, much less come up with a reason for his presence…

Monsieur Bouchard chuckled darkly. "I wondered when you would come sneaking around in here, _Alex,"_ he spoke in English. "Yes, I know who you are. You never had any of us fooled. It was simply a matter of time; us waiting until you screwed up somehow. Well, guess what, _Alex,_ you've screwed up!"

Alex, still seated at the desk the way he was, realized that the man wouldn't be able to see what he was doing with his hands. "_I don't know what you're talking about! Who is this 'Alex?'" _ As he spoke – skillfully inserting panic into his tone – he slowly reached his hand into his sweatshirt pocket and, without breaking eye contact, he pulled out his phone and touched the screen to bring it to life.

"Drop the façade; I already know you're lying. You've grown in popularity in the terrorist network, you know. We want you to work for us, of course, and we _will _get our way!"

"I wouldn't be so sure about that," Alex responded, resorting back to English since his cover was obviously blown, as he hit his speed dial number two and held it for three seconds. 'Please work!' he silently prayed.

Bouchard advanced into the room, chuckling. "Really? Because I am!" He lunged at Alex.

Alex almost smirked as he moved backwards out of the man's reach. "You say I screwed up by coming to poke around in your office; well, actually, you're the one who screwed up."

"How is that?" The man scowled.

"You underestimate me," Alex stated as he pulled his other hand out of his pocket and threw something small and round at the man as he stood up and moved for the door. He didn't stop when he heard a small explosion; he just kept sprinting down the corridor, back the way he had come, headed for the door. "Thank you, Smithers!" he muttered to himself as he threw the door open – and immediately doubled back as he saw four or five security guards coming his way. He cursed silently; Bouchard must have alerted them, and he would much rather face one man than five.

As he bolted down the corridor, he could see Bouchard coming towards him, clutching his arm. That must have been where the mini bombs had hit, Alex surmised. As he drew closer, he prepared himself for a fight. But, as it turned out, the older man wasn't much of an opponent; a quick roundhouse kick to the chest was all it took before he was off again. He rounded a corner and suddenly realized he had no idea where he was going as he had never had cause to be in this part of the building before. As he ran, he pulled the phone back out of his pocket and quickly found the app for Temple Run. Ten seconds later, as he turned another corner, he had the layout for the entire building. He decided to make a b-line for the nearest door, which just so happened to be right around the next corner. As he turned it, he cursed his luck again and took off down an adjacent hall. _More _freaking guards were coming in that door! 'Maybe,' he thought bitterly, 'it would have been better to deal with the first five…'

As he was coming up to another door, five more guards quickly blocked his way forward, five more blocked his way back. He knew he wouldn't be able to take them all, but he certainly wasn't going to go down without a fight! He pulled out his last line of defense, his iPod.

One of the guards laughed and said in a gravely tone, "_And just what do you intend to do with that, huh? Just come along quietly, and no one gets hurt_."

"_Really?"_ Alex questioned. "_Somehow I don't believe that!"_ Before anyone could make another move, a yellowish gas could be seen pouring out of the iPod. Alex grinned, holding his breath. Hopefully it would cause enough of a distraction, at least, to give him the upper hand. As the guards in front of him started to collapse, he pushed his way through them. It had worked! For the moment, at least. He knew they wouldn't be out long and, surely, there would be more guards around the next corner. If he wanted any hope at all of even getting out of the building, he would have to be smart. Pulling out his phone again, he held down all three speed dials. All the way in London it wasn't likely that he would get much help from Jones or Smithers, but he figured it wouldn't hurt. And Ben was surely on his way by now… How long had it been since he had sent the first distress signal? At least ten minutes, surely!

He rounded another corner – only to find himself completely surrounded by security guards. He turned to try to double back again and found that the knockout gas hadn't knocked out all of the guards that had been following him. He was trapped.

Bouchard stepped forward. "You can't escape, Alex; face it! You are our property now."

"I am no one's property!" Alex spat back, breathing hard from his run. "I don't belong to you or anyone else!"

"Which is exactly why you've been working for MI6 for the last three years, hm?"

His words stung Alex more than he wanted to admit, but he didn't show any emotion – just like he had been trained. "That doesn't mean they own me."

"Hmph. Well, it doesn't matter anymore, does it? Because you belong to us now."

"I. Don't. Belong. To. Anyone."

Bouchard grinned. "That's what you think now. But we'll see." He nodded to the guards.

As they moved in to restrain him, Alex lashed out. He knew he couldn't beat them all, but he was _not _going down without a fight! If he could just hold out until Ben arrived… Fear quickly assaulted him along with the barge of blows from the guards: What if Ben wasn't coming? What if Jones had pulled him out for another mission already, and _he wasn't coming?_ Alex felt like he was alone, completely on his own, once again.

He was tiring quickly; soon, he knew, they would have him. He managed to take out a few more guards before, finally, two of them managed to get hold of his arms, one of them painfully twisting his arm behind his back. He knew he was done for.

"You know, Alex," Bouchard spoke, moving through the guards to standing in front of him. "You said that I underestimated you, but, really, I think it's the other way around." He scoffed. "MI6's best? You didn't even realize I entered your room the first night you were here."

Suddenly the man's words from back in the office played in his mind: _"__Yes, I know who you are. You never had any of us fooled…"_ It was then that it hit him: The alias had been pointless; they had known who he was before he had even walked through the door. This was all a set-up, and MI6 had played right into the enemy's hand – _again. _He struggled to keep hold of his emotions as Jack's face flashed in his mind; it was Cairo all over again…

"What have we here?" Bouchard muttered, snapping Alex out of his thoughts, as he pulled the iPod and phone from his pocket. The man chuckled darkly. "If you were waiting for back-up, I do hope you realize that any type of signal you might have tried to send won't be received for at least another eight hours. And by then? By then it will be too late! You'll be half way to another country."

"I don't suppose you'd be kind enough to tell me where, would you?" Alex muttered dryly, already knowing the answer.

Bouchard laughed. "_Je suis désolé_, but I'm not quite that stupid!" He nodded to one of men at his side and continued in French: "_Go ahead; I don't want him knowing where we're going, after all!"_

As the man stepped forward, syringe in hand, Alex felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. He _hated _being sedated…

"_Bonne nuit, Alex Rider," _he heard the older man state. He felt the ever-familiar prick of the needle; then everything went black.

* * *

**A/N: **I figured you could probably figure out what the French in this chapter was, but, just in case: Goodbye, I'm sorry, and Good night. Those were the only ones. I'm going to leave off the challenges from now on unless someone complains since no one is answering them anyway, and I'm really bad with coming up with them... ^^;  
Anway, thanks for reading, and don't forget to review! =)


	4. Chapter 3 False Hope

**Title:** Tomorrow Comes Today  
**Summary: **One month into a mission, Alex Rider was declared MIA. Two months after that, he was declared dead. But no one would ever forget that Alex Rider's luck of the devil had kept him alive, against the odds, for over two years previously…  
**Rating: **T for violence/abuse  
**Disclaimer**: The disclaimer in the preview is completely untrue. As of three days ago, I now own a copy of Scorpia Rising. I bought it for $8.99 at Target. Now I just need to get the other four I'm missing...

**A/N:** Phew! This chapter certainly took a lot of work... a lot of research. When I planned this, I didn't realize how many time zones I crossed. I even confused myself trying to get them right. So, for your convience and so I don't confuse you as much as I confused myself, I put the times in both the local time and in Paris time since that's where the mission was centered. (Paris time is CEST.) Not to mention _finding _the perfect places for this to go down...  
Anyway, a special thanks to those who reviewed last chapter! I see reviews in my inbox and secretly do a little happy dance! =) ...And then sit back down at my computer and start working on the next chapter... Therefore, this chapter is written by yours truly, but brought to you by Blissful Winter, Mythomagic-Champion, MonssterUnderYourBed, and a Guest. =)

* * *

**Chapter Three – False Hope**

_10:15 AM (CEST) – Un Foyer Pour __La Guérison_

"_What are you saying? That André is_ missing?" Ben spat in French at the man who stood before him. "_Isn't it your _job _to make sure such things don't happen?"_

"_Je suis désolé, Monsieur Favre_," the man spoke calmly. "_We are doing all we can to find him, I assure you. I'm afraid I must apologize for the lack of security we had in place; the night guard fell asleep, and, somehow, André managed to disable the alarm." _He shrugged causally as if this sort of thing happened every day – and, Ben reflected, it probably did considering why Alex had been sent here in the first place. Ben had to wonder if this man was in on the whole thing and this was simply a perfect act or if the man truly knew nothing about what was going on. "_Monsieur Bouchard has already left with a few other men to conduct a search of the area. As I said, we are doing everything in our power to find him."_

Ben sighed, running a hand through his hair. This was not supposed to be happening; having him nearby had only been a standard precaution – he wasn't supposed to have been needed. And how, he pondered, had they managed to whisk Alex away before he had arrived? Surely he should have seen something as he arrived as it would have taken time to subdue Alex after he sent the signal. Maybe he had been knocked unconscious and unable to alert him until now? But they certainly would have searched his person and taken anything he had on him away so he still couldn't have sent that signal – _twice_ – barely over ten minutes ago. So much didn't add up! "_Merci beaucoup (Thanks a lot)," _he muttered as he turned away. "_I need to make a phone call." _Without another word, he walked out the door.

As soon as he was outside, he headed straight for his car, all the while dialing Mrs. Jones on his secure cell phone line. She picked up as he sat down in the driver's seat and started the ignition.

"Jones."

"We've got a problem. Alex is missing."

Silence. "Then you didn't make it in time?"

"No. He's already gone. Wait; how did you…?"

"Alex sent a signal to me as well. I knew if he was trying to get a hold of me, then we had a problem. Though I'd sincerely hoped it was not needed, I went ahead and dispatched a few other agents your way. Fortunately, we already had two of them in France for a different reason; they should be making contact with you within the hour." He heard static as the Head sighed on the other end of the line. "Though I'm not sure how much help that will even be unless someone tries to access his phone…"

"Well, if that happens, I'm sure I'll need all the help I can get."

* * *

_10:33 AM, Paris Time (CEST) – 42,000 miles above the Atlantic Ocean_

Monsieur Bouchard smiled to himself. Brilliant! His every step was going according to plan! He had just received a call from his contact that Alex's guardian was aware of his charge's disappearance, but it was too late for him to do anything to get Alex back! And the fact that Alex's phone would soon be emitting a tracking signal for MI6 to follow only made the situation that much better! Normally such a fact would disturb a person, but not Monsieur Bouchard. No, he had already known what would happen if he tampered with the phone. That was why he had left it with the man who had fueled his jet in Dakar, Senegal, when they had landed in the airport there to refuel before continuing on to Buenos Aires. He was paying the man well for his silence as well as to hold onto the phone for a few hours before seeing if he could hack the password. Not that he needed anything in it… But all of this would only benefit him later in the game.

He glanced over to where a still-sedated Alex slept, one hand handcuffed to a metal bar in the wall. 'All in good time,' he smiled to himself. 'All in good time!'

* * *

_1:17 PM, Local Time (CEST) – Ben's Hotel Room_

Ben paced the small space available in the room. He couldn't possibly sit still at the moment, fear and worry grating evenly on his nerves, steadily wearing his fuse shorter and shorter.

"Ben, please," one of three other agents in the room begged, "stop pacing before you wear a hole in the floor."

Ben stopped momentarily to glare icily at the man before continuing his back-and-forth path. "If I sit, I'm going to go crazy wondering where in the world he is, Peter! We don't know where he is, where he is going; we don't even know if he left the country or is still in it since the private airports won't even tell us if they've seen anyone matching the descriptions we gave them! Heck, he could be half way to – to _Atlantis_ for all we know! I think I have the right to pace!"

"Uhm… You do realize that Atlantis is a fictional place, right?" another of the agents asked uncertainly.

Peter turned to the second, younger man. "I think that's kind of the point he's trying to make, Chris."

"Oh. Right. I knew that."

"Uh-huh. Right."

"I did!"

"Sure. I believe you," Peter returned sarcastically.

Before Chris could retort once again, a steady, high-pitched beeping filled the small room, drawing all of the agents' attention.

"Uh… What's that?" the last agent asked, even as Ben's eyes bugged out of his skull.

He spun around in mid stride, immediately heading for his laptop set up on a table in the corner. "That," he answered, "is hopefully a lead, Trevor!" As the other three agents crowded around, Ben toggled the touch pad to wake up the computer. As soon as he had typed in the password, a program pulled itself up on the screen, revealing a world map with a red light blinking in one corner of Africa. "There! …So he did leave the country, the scumbag! Alert Mrs. Jones; we're going to need a flight to Dakar, Senegal, and fast!"

* * *

_11:42 AM, Local Time (4:42 CEST) – Approximately 20 Minutes from Buenos Aires_

Alex stirred slightly where he lay on the floor. Man, did his head hurt! …Actually, if he thought about it, just about everything hurt. He pried his eyes open, blinking in the dim light that met them. Where was he? This certainly didn't look like his room at _Un Foyer_. He closed his eyes again and drew in a slow, deep breath, collecting his thoughts. He remembered now: The over-heard phone call, the files in the desk, the chase through the main building, being sedated. That would certainly explain why his head hurt, and he was sure that they had been none-too-gentle in getting him to – wherever it was he had been taken. He took another slow, deep breath and, opening his eyes again, glanced around, taking in his surroundings. Carpet under him. A well-furnished, long room around him. If he listened hard, he could just make out voices from behind what he assumed was a closed door by how muffled the sound was. And… that whooshing noise. It seemed familiar, but he was having trouble placing it.

_Damien Cray stood facing Alex, a gun in his hand, ready to fire. Yassen was already down, dying, and he was about to be next. _

Alex gasped at the brief flashback as the sound suddenly registered: He was on a plane! He groaned. No quick escape from this one.

"Ah, you're awake, I see."

Alex sat up slowly – his head spinning slightly despite his best effort – to find that Bouchard had entered the cabin. He glared at the man before him. "I don't suppose you'd be willing to tell me where we are?"

"Argentina. We'll be touching down in Buenos Aires in about twenty minutes before continuing the last leg of the journey by boat. And if you agree to cooperate and not try to run, I won't have to sedate you again."

Alex raised an eyebrow. "You'd really take the word of a spy?"

Bouchard chuckled. "Of course not. I'm not that stupid, thank you very much. You'll still be handcuffed, under the guise of us transporting a criminal. It's a private airfield and a private marina so no questions will be asked, anyway, but it's always good to have a backup plan. But if you aren't going to cooperate and will try futilely to escape, then I will be forced to sedate you again. I don't want to have to, believe it or not, but I will."

Alex sighed inwardly. He definitely didn't want to be sedated again, that was for sure, and he certainly didn't have a choice but to go with this man. Maybe if he agreed… "I'll cooperate," Alex agreed slowly, "but only if you answer a few questions."

Bouchard sat down on a sofa opposite the spy. "Couldn't hurt, I suppose. Fire away."

"If you knew the whole time, why didn't you just sedate me when you snuck into my room that first night and take me away then?"

"I thought that would have been obvious. It was so much more fun to watch you at work, pretending to be someone you're not. You really are quite good, I have to admit; you certainly live up to your reputation."

"That phone call. You knew I overheard, didn't you?"

He nodded. "I made sure you did. I knew you wouldn't be able to resist."

"It was faked then?"

"Oh, no! It was quite real, I assure you! You see, Alex, we have a plan that we set in motion just a few months ago – a plan that cannot fail!"

"Like I haven't heard that one before… And it was always right before I foiled it."

Bouchard frowned slightly. "Well, this time you won't be, because you just happen to a part of this plan of ours."

"Who is this 'we' you keep referring to anyway?"

"Ah, that is for me to know, and you to find out!"

"Will you at least tell me what this plan is then?"

"I suppose you'll find out eventually, anyway. We are working to build the ultimate army."

"By stealing away teens with mental problems?" He raised an eyebrow. "Certainly doesn't make sense to me."

Bouchard chuckled. "Most of them don't want to live anyway. Therefore they make the perfect weapons because they don't care if they live or die. After we train them, they will fight for us fearlessly."

"What would keep them from just giving up in a battle?"

He smirked. "We have our ways."

Alex sighed. He obviously wasn't going to get more than that. "Why me?"

He laughed. "Now that really is asking the obvious! We want you to work for us, of course!"

"Doing what?"

"What else?"

Those two, simple words sent a chill down Alex's spine. "You want me to work as an assassin. Well, I won't! I don't kill people. End of story."

"Relax, Alex; we don't want you as an assassin – at least not yet. We just want to bring down MI5 and MI6. You have information. We want it. And together we can accomplish so much!"

"Even if I had valuable information – which I don't, by the way – I wouldn't tell you. I'm no traitor to my country."

"Hm. Well, we'll see how you feel after a few months. You've been tortured before, Alex, but I promise you've never been through what awaits you when we arrive at our final destination."

"I've been whipped, burned, and shot. Somehow I don't think you can do much worse."

He smirked evilly. "Like I said: We'll see about that."

* * *

_4:19 PM, Local Time (6:19 CEST) – Dakar-Yoff-Leopold Sedar Senghor International Airport, Senegal_

"What do you mean, you can't help me?" Ben growled at the poor woman who sat behind the main security desk in the airport. "This is a matter of international security!"

"Ben, you need to calm down," Trevor stated from behind the disgruntled agent, who spun around rubbing his forehead with a hand in frustration. Stepping forward, he quickly conversed with the woman in French. She nodded politely at him and spoke a few words in her native tongue before standing and walking through a door marked for employees' only.

Ben turned to Trevor, pointing a finger in the direction the woman went. "What just happened here?"

He shrugged. "Her English isn't very good; she just misunderstood you. Anyway, she doesn't have enough clearance to help us out, so she went to get the head of security."

Ben sighed exasperatedly. This was just not his day… or week… or month, for that matter.

After what seemed like an eternity – but was actually only about five minutes, the head of security came through the same door that the woman had exited through moments before. "My name is Duval," the man stated in perfect English. "Madame Leon says this is a matter of international security?"

"Yes," Ben stated stepping forward, completely in control once again. "I'm Agent Daniels. The men behind me are Agents Chadwick, Adair, and Trask." As he spoke he reached into his coat pocket and produced his ID card, the other three agents following suit. "We're from MI6 Special Ops. We have reason to believe that someone we are looking for has passed through your airport in a private jet. We were hoping to learn where it may be headed?"

The man – Duval – studied the agents' IDs for a moment before returning them and sitting down in the vacant desk chair in front of a computer monitor. "Where was the plane coming in from?"

Ben sighed. At least this man was willing to cooperate. Unfortunately… "We aren't exactly sure. Probably from somewhere around Paris – maybe a private airfield."

Duval raised an eyebrow. "You do not know?"

"No. Look, the man we're hunting has another MI6 agent hostage. He disappeared near Tours, France, and we know that they didn't leave the county by ground, but that's all we know."

"Then how do you know they came through here?" he asked skeptically, crossing his arms in front of him.

This was going nowhere, Ben realized, and in the meantime, Alex was getting further and further away, he was sure. He hadn't intended to tell this man more than he already had, but it looked as if he would have to give more to get anything. "We received a signal from a tracking device. Unfortunately, it's still broadcasting from this airport. I doubt the plane is still here, for obvious reasons, so we need to know where it went, and why the signal is still coming from here."

Duval continued to stare at Ben for a moment, as if contemplating whether or not to believe his story was true. Then, he slowly nodded. "If it was a commercial flight, we might have far more difficulty. But, since it was a private jet, we might have some luck, seeing as we have far fewer of those come through. From France you say?" At Ben's curt nod, Duval began to type quickly on the computer keyboard. "It will take a moment to search the system. If you have an approximate time, that would help to narrow the results."

"Well," Ben mused, "I would say somewhere between four o'clock this morning and noon today. But since Paris is two hours ahead of here, that would make to sometime between two o'clock and ten o'clock this morning here."

He entered the information given and, a moment later, the computer beeped with the results. Duval's eyebrows rose marginally. "Well, there was one private flight that came through this morning from Tours, France. Stopped to refuel. But someone messed up," he spoke, his voice turning to venom. "Someone forgot to log where the plane was taking off for."

Ben slammed his fist into the counter top. "Damn it!" he spat.

"Don't lose hope yet," Duval spoke. "I know the worm that fueled the plane. He also would have been responsible for the log since it was a private flight that hadn't previously filed a flight plan with us but one that requested a landing as it was coming in. Not smart enough to at least make something up, not smart enough to leave his name off. We can still find out."

"Not if they paid him off," Trevor supplied. "If the price was high enough, your worm might not have even asked."

"Well," Duval stated, "there's only one way to find out!"

* * *

_1:23 PM, Local Time (6:23 CEST) – Buenos Aires_

Alex dutifully stepped onto the vessel waiting to carry him away to who knew where. As he had promised, he hadn't tried to escape – but that was only because even he had to admit when there was no chance for a getaway. It was one of those times, however, that he was glad he knew Spanish; he had filed away in his memory where exactly he had been taken in Buenos Aires just in case the opportunity arose that he would be able to send for help. He could at least get them in the right direction that way. Not that he thought anyone would actually be looking. Mrs. Jones never worried about that, after all. It didn't matter that he had sent for help; he was alone, on his own, just like he always was.

He had long ago resigned himself to the fact that if he was going to get out of the messes MI6 put him in, the only one who could do that was himself. Because no one else would ever be there. He didn't like it, but that was just the way it was. That was the way it would always be. At least, until a mission actually killed him. He sighed. Maybe, just maybe, this would be the one.

* * *

_4:36 PM, Local Time (6:36 CEST) – Dakar Airport, Senegal_

Ben slammed his hand into the table making the man on the receiving end cringe. _"I said, tell me where that plane went when it took off again, damn it!"_ Ben had been allowed to interrogate the man alone in a sound proof room in the security office. Unfortunately for Ben, the man who had refueled the plane didn't speak English very well, forcing Ben to resort back to French.

"_Je dit vous, je ne sais pas! (I tell you, I don't know!)"_ the man repeated. _"I refueled the plane and left. That's all I know!"_

"_You didn't see it take off?"_

"_No. The man – he paid me to fuel and not watch what direction he took off. And to take the phone, hold on to it for a while, and then try to get in. I don't know why. He paid me well to do it for him so I didn't ask questions. I refueled. I left. I didn't watch."_

Ben rubbed at his forehead with his hands. No. This wasn't happening! The trail couldn't be cold already… He had promised Alex that he would be there for him, and now it was looking like he was about to let the teen down. It seemed to Ben that everyone was always letting Alex down, was never there when he needed it most; he couldn't let that happen again!

"_Besides,"_ the man continued quietly, _"if this man is as smart as you make him out to be, even if I had watched him take off, he could have turned and gone a different direction after he was out of sight. Even if I had seen, it wouldn't be of any help. Je suis désolé, Monsieur." I'm sorry, sir._

Ben turned away, defeated. As much as he didn't want to admit it, the man had a point. Bouchard could have said he was going to Brazil and, as soon as he was out of the air space above the airport, turned and headed for Australia. At least twelve hours, by his estimate, had elapsed since Alex was taken and still they were no closer to finding him than they were before they had flown to Dakar. There had to be something; surely, there was something he had missed! Some clue – some hint of any kind – of where that man had taken Alex. Without turning back to face the man, he asked one last time, _"Are you sure you don't know where he was going? Did he say _anything _that might give us a clue?"_

The man was silent for a moment before replying. _"Je ne sais pas. All he said was he needed to refuel before a long flight and to take the phone; paid me well to hold on to it for a few hours, then try to break in. That he would pay more if I didn't watch when he left. That was all he said."_

Ben half-heartedly slammed his fist into the door in front of him. "Damn it!" he whispered. Sighing, he straightened up and opened the door. As he left, he spoke quietly, defeated, _"You're free to go."_

He rejoined his comrades back by the security desk. They all stood from where they were sitting, all asking without speaking a word.

"It's a dead end," Ben spoke emotionlessly. "The trail is cold. We have no lead. We have no plan of action. We have nothing."

Peter's eyes grew wide. "You can't be serious!" he breathed.

"Deadly. Alex is MIA, and we have nothing to go on. It's over."

* * *

_6:02 PM, Local Time (10:02 CEST) – King Edward Point, South Georgia Island_

Alex watched as the dock slowly came into view and shivered. He wasn't sure where exactly they had ended up, but it was much colder here than it even had been in Buenos Aires the previous day when he had stepped off the plane. Wherever they were now, it must have been even further south.

As the cold winds blew, chilling him to the bone, it wasn't just his body that felt iced over. As far south as he must be, there was absolutely no hope of anyone finding him. As it was, the place looked almost uninhabited, and he highly doubted that anyone who might possibly live here would be willing to help him. Before there had been at least a small spark of hope. Not anymore.

This really would be the end of him, he realized with a shudder. It was all over now.

* * *

"_Here I lie forever  
Sorrow still remains  
Will the water pull me down and wash it all away  
Come and take me over  
Welcome to the game  
Will the current drag me down and carry me away  
Suddenly the light begins to fade_

_"HOPELESS_  
_I'm falling down_  
_FILTHY_  
_I can't wake up_  
_I cannot hold on_  
_I will not let go_  
_WORTHLESS_  
_It's over now_  
_GUILTY_  
_There's no way out_  
_I cannot hold on_  
_I will not let go"_

_~Breaking Benjamin: Hopeless_

* * *

**A/N: **So there you have it! Alex is far from home, Ben is out of clues. And you get a hint of the second edge of this double-edged sword, so to speak. ;) Thanks for reading, and don't forget to review! =)


	5. Chapter 4 Dead

******Title:** Tomorrow Comes Today**  
****Summary: **One month into a mission, Alex Rider was declared MIA. Two months after that, he was declared dead. But no one would ever forget that Alex Rider's luck of the devil had kept him alive, against the odds, for over two years previously…**  
****Rating: **T for violence/abuse**  
****Disclaimer**: Let's see, here... I'm a nineteen-year old female who works as a grocery store checker. If you think I own Alex rider (or the song by Three Days Grace) there's something seriously wrong with you.

**A/N: **Drumroll please! This is what you've all been waiting for (or at least one reader was)! I have dubbed this: The Torture Chapter! You'll recognize a couple of scenes from the Prologue/Teaser/Preview, but they have been edited (considering the plot has changed lightly since then). Enjoy!

* * *

"_On the ground I lay  
Motionless in pain  
I can see my life flashing before my eyes  
Did I fall asleep?  
Is this all a dream?  
Wake me up, I'm living a nightmare!"_

_~Three Days Grace: Time of Dying_

* * *

**Chapter Four – Dead**

_Four Days Later – King Edward Point, South Georgia Island_

"This is your last chance to agree to join us," Bouchard growled irritably.

Alex, sitting tied to a chair in a room constructed entirely of cement, said nothing. Instead he kept his face impassive, the only evident emotion being the daggers he was glaring at his captor.

With a growl, Bouchard backhanded Alex across the face. "Answer me!"

Alex slowly brought his head back around to face the man. "I already did," he spoke slowly, tone icy, "a hundred times. I am no traitor to my country. And I don't have the information you seek anyway. Go ahead; beat me again – make me bleed – I still won't have the answers. And I still won't fight on your side."

"So be it, little Alex," Bouchard spoke calmly. "But rest assured, no one is coming for you – no one knows where you are. Since you refuse to work for us, you won't be able to jeopardize us, either. Because you will never be able to escape. Face it, little Alex, you are alone."

"I always have been. MI6 has never given me decent back-up. Yet, somehow I'm still alive. You'll see. You may have the upper hand now, but it won't stay that way."

"Right," Bouchard scoffed. "Somehow I don't think so. No one is ever going to come for you. And since you won't cooperate, you'll suffer a slow, painful death instead – unless, of course, somewhere down the line you change your mind. I'll always being willing to give you a chance. Just think about that while the pain consumes you!" He turned to one of the guards that were in the cell with them, taking a cat o' nine tails from him.

Alex could see the bits of glass and points of nails sticking out through the tough leather straps. This was definitely going to hurt. "Really," he scoffed, glaring at the whip, "that is a rather clichéd choice for a weapon of torture. What are we in? the first century, A.D.? You should really come up with something new, you know."

Bouchard glared at him before muttering something to the guard in a language Alex couldn't place. The next thing he knew, he was being hauled to his feet and his hands were being chained to a ring set so high in the wall he was almost forced to stand on his tip-toes to support himself.

"You won't be making wise-cracks after you know it feels. You'll be wishing for death by the time I get done with you!"

Before Alex had a chance to respond, he felt the leather make contact with his back, the glass and nails biting firmly into his skin even through the shirt he was wearing. He barely bit back a gasp of surprise and pain. But, as if just that wasn't enough, the next instant he felt the points slicing across his back as Bouchard jerk the whip to the side. He could feel the skin tear and, seconds later, warm liquid beginning to ooze out of the fresh wounds. _Blood._ Even as this thought made itself known, he could already feel the pieces slicing into his back for a second time. New wounds formed; the ones from the previous lash deepened. Alex realized with a start that it was already getting difficult to breathe through the pain. He had to wonder himself, as a third lash came down, how long he would be able to withstand this. Already his vision was hazy, blurring more and more with each second that passed. A fourth lash fell. The fifth he barely registered through the burning pain in his back. A sixth lash; his vision faded black for a moment. A seventh lash; he couldn't hold on any longer.

With the eighth strike, Alex gave in to the blissful, painless blackness that called his name.

* * *

_Three Weeks Later_

Bouchard glared down at the boy in front him who was tied, as always, to a wooden chair. "How does it feel, little Alex," his captor tormented, "to know that no one is coming for you? MI6, I'm sure, has given up the search by now – _long _before now – if ever they even bothered!"

Alex glanced down at the floor. He knew the man spoke truth, but wasn't about to let him have the satisfaction of knowing that Alex already knew he was on his own. Maybe if he could convince Bouchard that he still believed someone was coming, his captor would speed up the death process. Maybe if he could convince himself, God would take pity on him and actually have someone find him. "I wouldn't know," he retorted, resuming eye contact. "They'll come; you just wait. Then you'll be sorry you ever picked a fight with me."

The man cackled. "Really? If I remember correctly, _you _picked a fight with _me._ _You're _the one who tried to infiltrate _my _'business' – not that I hadn't intended for that to happen! And you may have faith in your agency now, but let's just see if you still do when, six months from now, you're still here. You'll see, little Alex, that you can't trust anyone – not even the people you work for who are supposed to have your back. They all turn away in the end when it's inconvenient for them to rescue you. You'll see, little Alex; you'll see."

"I don't believe you," Alex maintained in a level tone. _It's true, and you know it,_ a voice in his head whispered. _They aren't coming for you._ "They'll come."

The man leaned closer until his face was only inches from Alex's. "You keep believing that all you want, but you know I'm right." _He's right. _"They will never come for you." _They aren't coming. _"Maybe the Great Alex Rider was worth something to them once, but you're getting too old and too well known to be of any use to them." _You have too many enemies now._ "Why would they risk so much for so little?" _They wouldn't._

Alex turned his gaze away. He didn't want to believe his captor's words, but he already knew the man spoke truth. _Cold, hard truth._ "You'll see," he barely whispered, trying still to convince himself as much as Bouchard. "They'll come."

Bouchard chuckled evilly. "I'm so sure they will," he returned sarcastically. "You want to know something, little Alex? I don't think you even believe that anymore. Maybe you did once, but not now. And if you were hoping for Divine Intervention – well, I'm sure God doesn't have any purpose for a murderer, so you might as well kiss that idea goodbye. Oh, I know you claim that you aren't a killer, but we both know better than that! – Besides, the only _god _in this place is me! Whether you live or die is in _my _hands! But enough of this banter; let's get on with things, shall we? Oh, we are going to have so much fun today! Or, rather, _I _will be the one having fun!"

Alex gulped, waiting silently for whatever torture he would be enduring this time to begin. He knew he was powerless to stop it, so he would simply endure, all the while waiting for an opportunity to escape – though in the back of his mind, he knew he would never get one. And, he hated to admit, Bouchard made a solid argument; what purpose would God have for a murderer like himself? No MI6; no Divine Intervention. He was on his own without any hope for escape.

He looked up when the door opened to reveal two more guards carrying a table followed by a third with a bucket of water. His breathing hitched in his throat. Oh, no. Anything but this! He quickly found himself being pulled from the chair and forced to lie down on the table where he was strapped down. A black cloth bag was roughly shoved over his head followed by a towel being placed over his mouth and nose. It hadn't even started yet and already Alex was starting to hyperventilate. He remembered all-too-well what waterboarding felt like, thanks those couple of CIA agents in Cairo. He could hear a conversation going on in the same unknown language he had head many times, and then it began. He could feel the towel damping, and he began to panic even more. He wasn't drowning, he knew, but he couldn't seem to convince his body of that fact. He was starting to suffocate. How long had this been going? He couldn't breathe! He futilely strained against his bonds, feeling himself starting to black out. He wanted to scream for them to stop but couldn't make his voice work. This was it; he was going to die…

It was then that light assaulted his closed eyes, followed by the sensation that his head had just broken the surface of a body of water. He gulped in the cool air, his lungs straining for oxygen. It took him a full minute to realize that they were finished waterboarding him – at least for the moment. As his senses slowly returned to him, he heard an unfamiliar voice speaking with a strange accent, presumably to Bouchard, in English.

"– not the smartest move you've ever made. We need him _alive _for a while yet, after all." Now he understood why it had ended: Someone else had come in and put a stop to it.

"But we also need him to break," he heard Bouchard defending himself. "Nothing yet has worked."

"Patience," came the other voice again. "Give it time. He will break. But if you accidently kill him first, we won't have the chance. _ Patience_."

He heard footsteps coming towards him, then: "You're lucky." A hand on his shoulder. "He probably would have killed you if I hadn't come in when I did." It took a moment to realize that this mystery man was speaking to him now instead of Bouchard. He could only nod, still breathing hard, relishing in the much-needed oxygen that filled his lungs. The hand disappeared, and he found himself being roughly shoved off the table and onto the floor where he collapsed in a heap. He heard footsteps, the door closing and locking, then silence.

In all honesty, Alex wasn't sure whether to be relieved that he wasn't dead yet or disappointed. At least if he had died, he wouldn't have to endure this torture that was never going to end. Again, he was reminded that to die would be the only means of escape – from this torture, from MI6, from the guilt he carried with him, from everything. He didn't really want to die, he acknowledged, but he didn't want to live this life that had been chosen for him, either.

Exhausted, he finally let himself fall into a deep slumber, the only piece of comfort he could find in his hellish situation.

* * *

_One Month Later – The Royal and General Bank, London_

Mrs. Jones sighed. "I'm sorry, Ben, but I don't think there's any way Alex is still alive – not after all this time. It's been two months since he went missing; it's time to close his file and move on."

Ben rubbed a hand tiredly across his brow. "There's got be something we've missed! We can't give up!"

"We've been at a dead-end since you were in Dakar two months ago. It's time to put an end to this futile task. I'm afraid you don't have a choice in the matter; I'm running the obituary in tomorrow's newspaper. Not that I suppose it matters anymore, but it does make it seem more official. Alex has no connections except here at MI6, not since his friend – what was his name? Tom something – was killed." She sighed. "I don't like this anymore than you do, but it's time to face it: We aren't going to find Alex."

Ben sighed. As much as he didn't want to admit it, he knew she was right. "What's the story then?"

"Well, as you know, Alex was, originally, supposed to go to live with the Pleasures in San Francisco after that incident in Cairo. When it didn't work out, he came back here. It didn't work out because, well, Mr. Pleasure gave me numerous reasons. We're just playing that up a little bit; the official cause of death was a bullet to the head."

Ben was more than angry – and it showed. "_Suicide? _Alex was most certainly not suicidal!"

"I know that, Ben, but it's the simplest explanation we could come up with. And, if you haven't noticed, he _did _have mental health issues."

"Only because you made him that way!" Ben practically shouted. "If you hadn't kept sending him on these missions, maybe he would be okay! Actually, scratch that! I know he would be because he wouldn't be God knows where right now!"

"Agent Daniels, I would appreciate it if you would lower your voice please. Besides, this matter is not open to discussion; it has already been decided."

Ben, realizing that the meeting was over, stood up and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

Mrs. Jones sighed tiredly. "God forgive me for what I've done…"

* * *

_One Month Later – King Edward Point, South Georgia Island_

"Still believe your precious MI6 is going to rescue you, little Alex?" the man taunted from where he stood over the bloodied body of a boy, lying on the floor, breathing hard from the pain and shivering. "Do you still really believe they care anything about getting you back? Think about it: You're Britain's best-kept secret; if you're dead, they don't have to cover you up anymore because there's nothing to cover up. In fact, you're already dead to them. A friend of mine back in England noticed your name in the obituaries a month ago. They don't want you anymore, Alex, but we still do. Therefore, my offer still stands, little Alex; join us! Tell me what you know about MI6, and, together, we can do so much more!"

Alex lifted his head from the floor, glaring daggers at his captor. "Go to Hell. I already know that as soon as you have what you want, you'll kill me; I'm too much of a liability for you to keep around any longer than you have to. Even if MI6 _did _abandon me – go so far as to declare me dead even, I'm not telling you anything! That's the coward's way out."

The man frowned. "That would be the _smart man's _way out. But so be it. It's not my death fast approaching. Your acclaimed 'luck of the devil' has run out, boy. You won't be getting out of this alive – and, rest assured, that it will be a slow and painful death indeed! If, by some miracle, someone were to find your body, there won't be enough left of it to identify you. It's a shame really, to waste someone so talented. But so be it, little Alex; so be it."

Bouchard walked out of the cell, slamming and locking the door behind him. Alex rested his head back on the cold concrete floor. _Dead?_ They really thought he was _dead?_ He felt like dying now, that was for sure, but he wasn't dead yet. Although, since no one was looking for him, he might as well be; they had given up on him completely.

For the first time since waking up on the plane months before, Alex felt truly hopeless. He knew there was no way to escape – he had tried multiple times in the first few weeks. He never left this room, and the door only opened when Bouchard came. When Bouchard was there, he never had any fewer than five guards with him in the room, and at one point Alex had caught a glance of even more outside the door. Even if he hadn't had multiple injures covering seemingly every part of his body, he never would have been able to over-take them.

His only hope was that someone would stumble upon him accidently. And it was a very dim hope, at that; a hope so dim it was like trying to see the stars as the sun is rising – virtually nonexistent. He took a deep breath then slowly sighed it back out. At least if he was going to die, he wished they would hurry up with it. But he knew they wouldn't. They would keep him alive for quite some time, hoping to persuade him to change his mind. But he wouldn't be doing that so, in the end, he would die.

Yet, he found a strange comfort in the fact that death was certain. After he was dead, all of this would be over. He would see his parents, his Uncle Ian, Jack, and Tom again. Everything would be how it always should have been. He wouldn't have to worry about saving the world from maniacs who thought they were doing the world a favor; it wouldn't be his problem anymore.

And yet… Would they blame him? He had certainly caused as many deaths as he had prevented… Would Jack blame him? She had been trying to protect him, after all. If he hadn't agreed to another mission, she would still be alive. And what about Tom? Tom had sacrificed himself, too, in order to protect Alex.

He shook his head, pushing thoughts of his best friend and former guardian to the back of his mind. That was the last thing he needed at the moment. He would much rather concentrate on the physical pain coursing through his body right now than the emotional pain that would certainly still be there when – _if _– he ever got out of this mess. And at least the physical pain hurt a whole lot less…

* * *

_The Royal and General Bank, London_

"We never should have used him in the first place, Mr. Smithers. Why didn't we see then what we know now?" Mrs. Jones asked. "Go ahead, Mr. Smithers; go ahead and say 'I told you so.' I know you're dying to. And I admit it: You were right. I shouldn't have used him again after he came back from the States."

"I won't say that, but I will say that if you had just listened to him, I think you would have known," the man answered. "He protested going on missions before Jack Starbright was killed. But when he came back… He seemed defeated, like he had no other option. And, perhaps, he didn't. But maybe you couldn't see it because you just didn't _want _to see it. He was the perfect secret weapon, after all. It would be mistake to lose him. But, in the end, you have still lost him anyway."

She sighed. "I wish it hadn't come to this."

"As do I, Mrs. Jones, but what is done, is done. We can't go back and change anything or simply wish the past away. God knows how much I'm sure Alex would if it were possible."

"Well, one thing I know I can do, Mr. Smithers, is to promise to never experiment with something like this again. And, if by some miracle in heaven Alex does survive, I vow I will never again use him, no matter how tempting."

"I will be sure to hold you to that." He stood to leave. "Besides, if he makes it through, I'm not sure he'd ever be mentally able to handle another mission, anyway."

"Let's just hope that – somehow, by some miracle –he is still alive and that he will come through."

Mr. Smithers nodded. "Perhaps. Miracles have been known to happen when they seem least likely, after all."

* * *

**A/N: **So I think I actually came up with a few good challenges for this chapter...

What happened to Tom?  
Why didn't it work out for Alex to stay with the Pleasures?  
In the novels, Mrs. Jones was highly against using Alex. What made her change her mind?

And because I almost have the next chapter complete as well, I'll give you a little preview if you leave me a sighed in review. =) (Hint: If you answer a challenge, it'll be longer.) Thanks for reading!


	6. Chapter 5 The Amara

******Title:** Tomorrow Comes Today**  
****Summary: **One month into a mission, Alex Rider was declared MIA. Two months after that, he was declared dead. But no one would ever forget that Alex Rider's luck of the devil had kept him alive, against the odds, for over two years previously…**  
****Rating: **T for violence/abuse**  
****Disclaimer**: I am currently out of witty remarks, seeing as it's after midnight here and I spent a couple hours chasing hyper little kids at my church's VBS ealier. I don't own Alex Rider or associated characters. I do own my members of the SAS, though. And the bad guys. ;)

**A/N:** Because you guys (and gals) are awesome, I'm updating earlier than I intended. Feel special! Haha. =) It's a bit of a slow-paced chapter, but, it's, uh, kinda needed for the rest of the story... And, believe it or not, this was originally supposed to be the first actual chapter - content wise. I didn't write it all the way back then. Those of you who left me a review already know what's coming, but, yes, K-Unit. 'Nough said. ;)

(Literally my reaction to seeing so many reviews at once in my inbox: O.O ...asjdkfl;aksdjfklakdfjakjsdlf;ajsdlfajdslkfajdklf! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! Must. Work. On. Next. Chapter. Gah! Wait, I have to respond first! ...And maybe read them first... O.O)

Anywho... Go read the chapter that I so graciously stayed up late to bring you. =)

* * *

"_They locked the door  
Give me the strength to break it down  
Yeah we've always faced this world as one  
And I know there's nothing different now  
Because this heart is true  
It's true, it's true!"  
__~Story of the Year: Tell Me_

* * *

**Chapter Four – The Amara**

_Seven Months Later – Brecon Beacons Military Base, Wales_

"Wait; we're going _where?"_ Wolf asked, confused.

The sergeant sighed. "King Edward Point, South Georgia Island."

"And… that's _where_ exactly?"

"It's about 1700 miles to the south east of Buenos Aires, Argentina, which is where you will be flying to before continuing the rest of your journey by boat," he answered. "You leave from base at 0800 tomorrow morning to drive down to the military airport in St. Athan. From there, you will be flying to Dakar, Senegal, to refuel before continuing to Buenos Aires. A-Unit, D-Unit, L-Unit and the two uninjured members of M-Unit will be accompanying you but each unit will be on a separate boat; you are the ones responsible for setting up a game plan. It's a long trip so I suggest you get some sleep before then. Wolf –" he handed the leader four manila envelopes – "here is everything you need to know before you arrive in Buenos Aires. That way you have the entire 28-hour boat ride to plan your strategy and prepare for the hike to the base. I was told to pick the best, by the way, so don't screw up. Dismissed."

K-Unit left the hut with less-than-happy expressions on their faces. "Why is it," Mole asked as they headed back to their own hut, "that it seems _we're_ always the ones to get sent to either the coldest or the hottest places? It's never anywhere with a_ pleasant_ climate."

Eagle smirked. "'Cause if they sent us somewhere pleasant then it wouldn't be work?" he suggested.

Mole frowned. "So not helping, man."

"Ah, c'mon, guys," Snake inserted. "It won't be that bad! I mean, just 'cause it's the middle of winter down there right now…"

"Just wear layers," Wolf added. "It won't be any worse than that time – oh wait. That was just me. Never mind." When his comrades gave him funny, confused looks, he elaborated. "Well, I was gonna say it can't be any worse than that time in the French Alps, but I was the only one of us there, so…"

"Was that when they were convinced they should mix-and-match units for a while for some stupid reason or other?" Eagle asked.

"Yup, that was then. It was pretty chilly up there. Like I said, just wear layers; you'll be fine." Wolf led the way into the cabin. "Let's get some rest and leave these files for tomorrow, shall we? We'll definitely have plenty of time on the flight…"

* * *

_10:59 PM, Local Time – Buenos Aires, Argentina_

"Okay," Wolf stated tiredly. "Let's summarize, here."

"Basically," Mole stated, "this place is housing a growing terrorist organization, The Amara. Our job is to break in, take hostages, free any prisoners we find, and secure the building. Nothing unusual there."

Snake nodded, glancing out the window of the boat cabin; the shore of Argentina was barely visible now. "Sounds about right. That's what I got out of it anyway."

"So what's the plan, then?" Eagle asked. "Any ideas?"

"Mole," Wolf stated, "that's your strong point; what do you think?"

"Well, based on the layout, I think we should split up. It's not a large building, obviously, or they would have sent more than eighteen of us. There are three doors, so if we split into groups of six, they shouldn't have a way out – especially since the main floor is basically one open room. The only thing that isn't open is one door to the side which houses a stair case leading to both the upper levels and a basement. Unless of course, there's a tunnel in the basement. But we can't really plan for that when we don't know where it would come out at. Our best bet is to just storm the building."

"We don't know how many people we'll be up against though," Snake pointed out. "It could end up being a bloodbath."

"Our instructions are to shut it down as quickly as possible so a Trojan horse is out of the question," Eagle volunteered. "There really isn't another option."

The group fell silent for several minutes, deep in thought, before Wolf stated, "Maybe we could spend a few hours just watching the place. We might be able to figure out what we're up against that way. If these guys feel safe here, then maybe they'll be a little bit careless. And if they have an outer patrol…"

Mole slowly nodded. "That could work. But it's taken MI6 a long time to track these guys down; I don't think that's an accident. I mean, think about it: They picked an almost uninhabited island for their base. They're obviously not careless. There are quite a few windows on the blueprint, but I'm betting the area around the compound is pretty clear of anywhere we could hide to observe." This time he shook his head. "Not very plausible for this particular situation. Any other ideas?"

"Nope."

"Nada."

"None."

"Fantastic," Mole sighed. "So I guess we're back where we started: storming the place."

Wolf nodded. "Okay. I'll radio the other boats and let the units know."

"I still think it'll be a bloodbath," Snake muttered.

* * *

_6:52 AM, Local time – Approximately Ten Miles South of King Edward Point, Near Mt. Paget_

The sky was still completely dark when the SAS men reached a rise that looked down into a valley. Not wanting to waste any time, they had started out on the hike shortly after the last boat had arrived and had only made brief stops along the way. Even so, the terrain was rough, and it had still taken several hours to reach the base of the mountain where the compound was located.

"There it is," Wolf muttered as the eighteen SAS men crouched in the frozen underbrush, his breath showing in white clouds in front of his face, illuminated by lights from the compound. From the ridge they were situated on, the building looked to be no bigger than a Lego with a few, tiny holes from which an abundance of light poured out. It reminded the K-Unit leader of Swiss cheese…

Snake pulled out a pair of binoculars. "What is going on down there?" he asked with a frown. The others immediately pulled out their own binoculars – specially equipped with night vision – and surveyed the scene Snake had brought to their attention.

"Well, snap," Mole muttered. "There's goes the plan…"

In the area around the compound, black figures dotted the landscape. It almost looked like what the group would imagine the SAS camp to look like if it had been seen from the same vantage point with the same amount of light: Somewhere between seventy-five and hundred people, at least, were running drills in these early-morning hours.

"Could this," the L-Unit leader, Porcupine, mused, "be the training grounds for The Amara?"

"Could be," Badger agreed. "And if it is, we've really hit the jackpot… But that means that's it's probably better guarded than we originally thought, too."

"Whether it is or it isn't," Whale – the leader of A-Unit – stated, "we've gotta come up with a new plan. We can't just storm a place where most of the population is already outside."

"But," Turtle suggested, "we could scare them back inside… Maybe if we fired a few shots into the air?"

"Or they would come and search the trees… Bad idea," Squirrel answered. "Those soldiers could be newbies, but they could also be very, very experienced. We don't know."

"Actually," the leader of D-Unit, Scorpion, mused, still watching the soldiers below, "I think they _are _newbies. It's hard to tell from here with so little light, but I think firing a few shots to scare them back inside might work. We'll have to move fast though; if the trainees are sent in, the instructors are likely to come looking still. But when they don't find us and go back, we'll hopefully have the compound secured by then and can wait in ambush for them. Wolf? It's your call."

The other three unit leaders glanced at each other. "I think it's our best bet," Porcupine stated. "It's that or trying to storm the place with everyone outside."

Wolf frowned, silently weighing the pros and cons. If they stormed the place right then, they were out-numbered big time, and it would certainly not end well. If they fired a few shots first, it had the potential to backfire if all of the soldiers in the valley were seasoned fighters – they would still be out numbered if the enemy rushed them. But, if they were newbies, then the SAS men would still have a fighting chance. Wolf sighed, a cloud of white rising up into the night. "Let's try it."

* * *

_One Hour Later_

Shots rang out through the valley, echoing all round as the sound reverberated off the surrounding mountains. The SAS men had split into groups – Units K and M together with D-Unit being split between Units A and L – and had spread out along the ridge that wrapped the compound in a half moon. From the three points they had taken up, one man in each group had sent two or three shots into the air over the valley. Just as they had all hoped, the majority of the figures in the clearing immediately headed back for the building; only twenty men stayed out and spread out to search the ridge, breaking off into pairs. It was then that they made their move.

"Alright," Wolf's voice crackled through everyone's radios. "Move out!"

As quietly and as quickly as possible, the eighteen men made their way down the steep slope towards the valley. As they moved, a few more shots could be heard echoing through the trees.

"Porcupine to Wolf. We've already got two of theirs down!"

"Whale to Wolf. So do we!"

Wolf nodded his satisfaction even though, in the dark, no would could see it. The more they took out now, the better. Off to his left, Wolf heard shots close at hand.

A second later, Snake appeared and nodded. "Two more down, Wolf."

By the time the units reached the valley, twelve of the men out hunting them were dead. Wolf liked those odds; that meant when those left returned, they would be equally matched – actually the SAS would have the upper hand provided they had the building secured by that point.

"A and D in position. Over."

"L and D in position. Over."

As K and M reached their door, Wolf responded. "Roger that. K and M in position. Let's move!" At almost the same moment, the units kicked in their respective doors and met with a surprise. Gathered in the large room were all of the men they had seen retreat into the building – only the group in front of them weren't exactly _men._ As they gazed around them in surprise, seventy teenaged boys stared back with equal amounts of surprise.

"What in the –," Wolf muttered. It took a moment to recover himself, but, when he did, he took command of the situation. "Alright," he ordered. "Nobody move and nobody gets hurt!"

"Don't worry," a lanky teen spoke as he stepped toward Wolf. "We don't want to fight you. We don't even want to be here."

Snake furrowed his brow. "You look awfully familiar, kid." He paused for a moment, his unit leader eying him with interest. "You're the son of Eric Joyce, aren't you?" The boy nodded. "You went missing months ago! Everyone believed you to be dead…"

"Yeah, well," the boy responded, "obviously I'm not."

Wolf sighed. "So this is where all those missing teens disappeared to. Don't worry; we're from the SAS, and we're going to get you all out of here and back to your families, where you belong. Just sit tight while we search the building. If your superiors come back before we do, don't tell them we're in the building." While he was speaking, the other men had crossed the room and had joined together again in one spot. He turned to the other units. "Okay, A, D, and L head on up the stairs; each unit can take a floor. The two of you from M will go down to the basement with us. Move out."

The group made for the stairs, each going their respective directions. As K-Unit reached the bottom, they had to wonder if they should even bother: Cobwebs hung from the ceiling to the floor in the passage as if no one had been there in quite some time. Wolf frowned. "You'd think," he muttered, "that with as many boys as they've got up there that they'd be using all available space…"

"Let's just go back up then," Eagle suggested. "Obviously no one's down here…"

"Or maybe," Squirrel mused, "that's what they want us to think." He moved down the passage a few steps. "There are several doors; they could be hiding people down here still – maybe those who refused to cooperate?" He pushed a door open into a dusty, moldy-smelling room made entirely of concrete.

"Or maybe not," Eagle muttered looking over his shoulder.

"I have to agree with Squirrel," Wolf stated. "We should still check all of these rooms. We wouldn't want to overlook anyone – or anything, for that matter. There might be a tunnel of some kind down here. If we tipped them off with those shots earlier, the higher-ups might have come down to escape that way."

The group continued down the passage, pushing open the doors along the passage only to be disappointed to find nothing but empty rooms. They came to the end of the passage where two last doors stood. Eagle pushed on the one to their right – only it wouldn't open.

"Uhm, guys? This one is locked…"

Beaver stepped up, pulling out a lock pick. "No problem." Within minutes, the member of M-Unit had the door open. "Oh, man," he breathed. "A tunnel…"

"Alright," Wolf spoke, taking command. "Squirrel, Beaver, Mole – you guys check it out; we'll follow you after we check this last door." The three men nodded and started down the dark passage, slipping night-vision goggles over their eyes.

Snake jiggled the handle. "This one is locked too. It seems awfully strange that in a place that doesn't seem to be in use that there would be two locked doors, doesn't it?" He pulled out a lock pick. "They were hiding a tunnel behind the other one; I wonder what they're hiding behind this one…"

While it took longer for him to get it, Snake eventually picked his way through the lock. Wolf swung the door open, the same dank smell greeting the unit that had from the rest of the rooms. But this room also had an irony smell mixed in that struck the unit leader as odd – until the brighter light from the corridor spilled into the more dimly lit room. Sprawled face-down on the floor, body covered in lacerations with blood from some of them still drying, was a teen that Snake guessed couldn't have been older than nineteen. The unit was dumb-struck. How could anyone see fit to hurt a child like this?

Wolf gasped, his eyes growing wide, as it suddenly hit him: He recognized the boy! _Point Blanc Academy…_

"_Cub? !"_

* * *

**A/N: **I seriously had to think about what chapter I was supposed to be uploading. Yeah. I'm that far ahead. So, you probably know what's coming: Review and get a preview! Challeges are a bonus, once again! =) But, regardless, thanks for reading! !

Who exactly are The Amara? What are their goals?  
Where does the tunnel lead? What awaits Mole, Beaver, and Squirrel at the end of it?  
Cub has been discovered! But you know it can't be that easy, right? Or is it? Do they get out without a hitch, or what happens to prevent their escape?


	7. Chapter 6 Crashing Down

**Disclaimer: **Do I really need this? I mean, does anyone even read these? Then again, I still put author's notes, and no one reads those either, so... I don't own anything in this chapter that isn't mine. ;)

**A/N:** Once again, you guys (and gals) are truly amazing. This story now has the most watches/follows of any of my stories (all of other fandoms, FYI). …And so many reviews! I hardly knew what to do with myself… THANK YOU! You guys should be grateful too, though; I decided to update a day early. =)

I honestly didn't care much for the end of Scorpia Rising. Not because Jack died. Not because it's the end of the series. Because after all of everything that Alex went through, you never really see what it did to him mentally. Hence the double-edged sword that is this story. So far you've seen the physical side of the story. This chapter, however, takes a time-out for the mental side (though there is still a little action as my reviewers already know). Hope you still enjoy!

Scenes in _italics_ are flashbacks.

WARNING: A few little curse words work their way into this chapter. Nothing major; mostly just 'damn its' from a very angry Wolf. And Alex seems a little bipolar. But when you think about it, his reactions make sense. I mean, he's convinced he's going to die, for one thing...

* * *

"_Everything that I despise  
Consumes me when I close my eyes.  
I don't know if I can change the way I feel.  
Despite the light that you have shone  
The dark has become what I know.  
And I am fighting to find my way out of it_

_"I am trying so hard to forget_  
_This constant aching feeling that stirs inside my chest._  
_The fear in me always drags me down._  
_The guilt I feel will not let me get up again_  
_I'm crushed by the weight."_

_~Close Your Eyes: Keep the Lights On_

* * *

**Chapter Five – Crashing Down**

_7:36 AM, Local Time – Mt. Paget, South Georgia Island_

"_Cub? !"_

As the rest of K-Unit filed into the room after Wolf, they glanced back and forth between their unit leader and the boy in front of them. "No way," Eagle muttered as Snake knelt next to the figure. "It can't be…"

Snake frowned. "It is. An older version, obviously, but it's Cub none-the-less."

"What's he even doing here?" Eagle questioned, bewildered.

Snake grabbed his shoulder and shook it gently only to receive no response. "I don't know. We'll have to wait until he wakes up – if he ever wakes up."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, he's still breathing, but he's evidently lost a lot of blood… There's no telling –." Snake stopped his sentence abruptly as a small moan reached his ears. "Cub?" he asked hesitantly.

Alex opened his eyes slowly, his head reeling, to see two, blurry figures standing above him with a third kneeling next to him. _Cub._ That's what one of them called him… But the only people who knew him by that name were… "Ben?" he whispered, his voice dry. It was too much to hope for, but Bouchard had already beaten the tar out of him once today so it wouldn't be him. And there was also the fact that only about four people would remember him by the name he was given at Brecon Beacons over three years before.

Snake's frown deepened. "'Fraid not, kiddo. It's just Snake and Eagle and Wolf."

Another moan. "I must be dreaming… or hallucinating. That wouldn't be surprising…"

"You're not dreaming, Cub," Wolf spoke up. "We really are here, and we're gonna get you out of here. Okay?"

"No." The abrupt response took the members of K-Unit by surprise. "You – You have to leave. Right now. Before Bouchard comes back. I'd just slow you down. You need to leave!" His vision had finally come into focus along with his thoughts, and he could now clearly see that the figures in front of him were real. Bouchard had already had his 'fun,' it was true, but he would be back – he had said as much before abruptly leaving over an hour before, and Alex didn't want K-Unit to get mixed up in all of this. He wouldn't be able to handle it if he had any more deaths on his hands, and he was sure Bouchard wouldn't hesitate to shoot them on sight.

"Calm down, Cub," Snake stated. "We aren't going anywhere without you, so you might as well save your breath. End of story."

"No!" Alex argued futilely. "You have to leave!" He gasped in pain, the ground tilting dangerously under him, as he tried to sit up. Black spots flashed in the corners of his vision, and he felt like he was about to pass out for the second time that day.

"I wouldn't move just yet if I were you," Snake cautioned, gently pressing against his shoulders to get him to lie back down. "And we aren't leaving."

Just then, the sound of cruel laughter followed by multiple clicks of gun chambers echoed through the cell. "You should have listened to him. Now, all of you are going to die. Now, now; don't bother trying to draw your weapons! You're outnumbered, after all. Just slowly take them out and slide them over here along with your radios."

K-Unit had no choice but to comply; but they didn't regret not leaving. The last time any of them had talked to Ben, he had told them that Cub was dead. He had refused to go into details but was clearly upset about the matter. If there was a way to get this kid out of here, they were going to do it.

"Just answer one question for me," Wolf growled. "How did you get in here? The building should be secure by now, and we checked all the rooms down here…"

Bouchard chuckled as one of his other men gathered up the abandoned guns and radios. "That tunnel you found? Well, those three buffoons walked right past our hidden room. They won't be coming back anytime soon, either; we made sure of that with fresh tracks in the snow outside. And, very soon, the building won't be here to be searched. You may have plenty of men, but none of them will ever find you before you die.

"You know," Bouchard continued, "it really is a shame that I have to kill you all. Kaul will not be happy about this one bit, but… He'll get over it. He'll understand that I couldn't simply take three SAS men hostage, after all. Yes, it really is a shame. I was so looking forward to our next session, Alex. I had something extra special planned for you – after you had healed some, of course. Ah, well. Goodbye, little Alex. It was fun while it lasted." The door slammed shut, leaving the SAS men and Alex alone once again.

"The bastard," Wolf growled, banging his fist into the door.

"Please don't injure yourself, Wolf," Snake sighed, turning to the teen. "It's going to take just about my entire medical kit to fix Cub up as it is…"

"Alex," Eagle stated. "That's your name, Cub?"

The teen nodded. "Alex Rider. Not that it makes a difference since we're all going to die anyway."

"You don't know that," Snake responded. "That guy underestimates the SAS. We don't leave any of our own behind. When we don't show up to the rendezvous point and they can't get us on our radios, they won't stop searching until they've found us."

"Except that they won't find us," Alex returned. "He doesn't underestimate people, Snake. Believe me. If he doesn't want us to be found, then we won't be found."

Wolf sighed. "Well, there's gotta be some way out of here…"

"Let me know if you find one. I've been here who knows how long – never left this room – and I have yet to see it. Good luck."

"How long _have _you been here?" Snake asked, examining the wounds on Alex's back.

"That depends," Alex hissed through teeth clenched in pain. "What month is it?"

"September," Eagle supplied helpfully, sitting down and leaning against the wall.

"Nine – maybe ten months then… I don't really remember…"

Snake frowned. He couldn't even remember the month he went missing? That did not bode well for his mental state. "How did you even get into this mess?" he asked. "Most of the kids up there are from wealthy, high-up families. They have something against yours?"

"My parents are _dead,_ thank you very much," he hissed as the medic started to attempt to clean the wounds. "I never even knew them…"

K-Unit froze, staring wide-eyed at him. "What?" Wolf breathed. "Then that story we were fed when you trained with us four years ago…"

"Was a lie," Alex finished. "Just like everything else MI6 says."

"MI6?" Eagle asked, breaking out of his stupor. "What do they have to do with anything?"

"Classified."

"Don't you 'classified' me!" Wolf declared. "You're so sure we're going to die anyway, so you really can't pull that bull right now!"

Alex sighed. "No, I guess I can't. Who really cares if I break the Official Secrets Act when I'm about to die, huh?"

"You aren't going to die," Snake insisted. "None of us are – at least not today. But, Lord knows, I'm as curious as Wolf and Eagle… Wait; Official Secrets Act? ! ?"

"You know," Alex stated tiredly, seemingly ignoring Snake's statement, "Technically, I'm already dead, right? So I _technically _can't break the OSA… Dead men tell no tales, right?"

"Exactly," Wolf coaxed. "So does that mean you'll tell us?"

"Maybe," Alex mumbled, his voice growing fainter and fainter as he spoke. "Maybe after I take a nap…"

"Oh, no, you don't!" Snake stated firmly. "You need to stay awake, Alex."

"But 'm tired…"

"I know. But you may have sustained a head injury of some kind, so I need you to try to stay awake anyway, okay? It's important that you do."

Alex nodded vaguely.

"So," Eagle asked. "What's all this about MI6?"

* * *

_8:04 AM, Local Time – Outside the Compound_

"Okay, I think everyone is out," Porcupine stated, exiting the building with two men whose hands were tied behind their backs.

Whale nodded. "Okay, good. I've already called in to Stanley for those helicopters, so they're en route. Although, I'm thinking we're gonna be needing a few more than originally planned," he ended with a chuckle.

Porcupine allowed himself a small smile too, but it quickly fell. "Hey, have you heard anything from Wolf? He hasn't checked in with me yet…"

Whale frowned. "No, as a matter of fact I haven't. That's rather strange."

The L-Unit leader pulled out his radio and spoke urgently into it. "Porcupine to Wolf, over." No answer. "Porcupine to Wolf. Please respond, over." Still no answer came. He turned to the other unit leader. "This can't be good." Into his radio he said, "Any of K-Unit, please respond immediately, over."

"This is Mole. What's wrong? Over."

"Thank God," he muttered before answering. "Wolf isn't responding. What's the situation? Over."

Silence, then: "That's not good. We found a tunnel in the basement, and Wolf sent me along with Squirrel and Beaver to check it out. He said he'd be right behind us after they checked one last room. We got to the end of the tunnel and found fresh footprints. We waited for a few minutes before deciding to go ahead and follow the trail, thinking they probably found something. Haven't seen them since. Over."

"Well, they're out of radio communication. We need to find them. Over."

"The trail was a dead-end, anyway, so we're headed back now. We'll circle around back to the entrance and see if we can find them. Over."

"Copy that. Stay in contact. Over."

"Rodger that. Over and out."

It was then that the compound exploded in a burst of blue and green fire behind them. "Sh-talking mushrooms!" Whale breathed as he looked up from the ground where he landed when the shock wave hit. "That wasn't part of the plan!"

"Mole to Porcupine. We're still going back in. I won't leave my unit in there. Besides, the basement might still be intact, and, if they're still inside, that's where they'll be. Over."

"Go ahead. Just be careful! We'll work on keeping order here and getting everyone off the island. Over and out."

"Porcupine, if the rest of K-Unit was still in the building, and they've been trapped – which they'd have to be since we can't get them by radio…"

"I know. This certainly doesn't bode well; it means someone is still out there. We'll have to stay on our guard."

* * *

_8:07 AM, Local Time – Alex's Cell_

"I told you that no one will be finding us. Bouchard doesn't take any chances."

"They'll still come, Alex," Wolf maintained. "We're a unit; we stick together. We watch each other's backs and will never leave a brother behind."

"Yeah, right. We're on our own. It'd be inconvenient for them to come back for you…"

"Is that what that Bouchard jerk has been feeding you?" Eagle asked, angrily. "'Cause it's a load of bull crap is what it is."

"And it's also been proven to be true. Because if what you say is true, then why am I still here?"

"Look, maybe MI6 gave up the search, but _we_ aren't MI6. We're the SAS. We operate completely opposite of the spy world."

"Whatever. It doesn't matter. I won't be getting out of here one way or the other – I can't even sit up without practically passing out…"

"Well, we certainly aren't leaving you behind," Snake stated. "Once they find us, we'll have enough manpower to get you out with us. We don't leave a brother behind, remember?"

Alex scoffed. "Since when have any of you ever cared a thing about me?"

"Since Point Blanc," Wolf stated abruptly. "I didn't know why you were there, and I didn't care. All I knew was what I could see. And what I saw was a teenaged boy doing the work of someone ten years older than him. At the time, I just thought it was a coincidence, that it was a one-time thing. But I still respected you for it. If I'd have known that wasn't the first time and that it wouldn't be the last… Look, Alex. I've got an older brother and an older sister. Both of them are married; both of them have kids. If I had known MI6 was using a freaking fourteen-year old to do their dirty work…" He shook his head. "My oldest nephew turns fourteen yet this year. The thought of him being sent into life or death situations turns my stomach sour."

Silence reigned in the cell for several moments after Wolf's speech, only occasionally broken by a hiss of pain as Snake finished dressing Alex's wounds. Snake and Eagle were both shocked at this piece of news: Their leader had never mentioned seeing the youngest member of their unit when he was sent to the French Alps. Alex was shocked for another reason entirely – he couldn't believe that just _maybe _there was caring bone in Wolf's body.

Finally Snake broke the silence. "So what happened when you went to San Francisco? Obviously something did since you came back to London."

He shrugged marginally, even that slight movement causing him to wince. "Didn't work out, that's all."

_Alex stopped outside the kitchen when he heard Mr. Pleasure on the phone. He had come down hoping to maybe help prepare diner to take his mind off everything. What he heard, though…_

"_I'm sorry, Mrs. Jones, but this arrangement simply isn't working. At first, I thought maybe we were helping him, but, as time has gone on, very little has changed." A pause. "I know these things take time, but he's been here for almost six months already, and nothing is happening. He keeps so much to himself, doesn't really talk to any of us. It's impossible for us to try to help him because we don't know what's wrong. We tried therapy, but he's already managed to chase away several highly qualified psychologists – they all said he was a lost cause and that there was nothing they could do. Not to mention the rather disturbing news that our daughter just told us… I don't know what else we can do." Another pause. "Thank you for understanding, Mrs. Jones. Believe me, I wish this had worked out, too, but this situation is placing unnecessary stress on all of us."_

_Alex turned and silently fled back up the stairs to his bedroom. He had heard enough. The only people he had left who could provide a normal life for him didn't want him around anymore – and, in all honesty, he didn't blame them. He was a burden; he should have expected this from the very start. It wasn't like he wasn't trying, though. He really did try; he could just never get the words to come out right… Maybe Tom would still let him stay – no! The same thing would probably happen… If only MI6 would just let him live alone. But he knew that wasn't an option to them since he was still a minor. He would be stuck under their thumb until he turned eighteen. He collapsed onto his bed with a heavy sigh. Maybe it was better this way… He would never fit into normal society again, anyway. He had seen too much already; he could never go back to being a normal fifteen-year old that loved football and hated homework. He just couldn't. 'A lost cause' they had called him. 'No hope left for help…' He sat up again, running a hand through his hair. Why did it always come back to this? He didn't want to but – _

"Alex?" Snake asked, placing a hand on the teen's shoulder and squeezing it slightly, concern evident in his voice.

Alex looked up in surprise, having been jolted out of the memory. "What?"

"Where did you go? You kinda zoned out there… You okay?"

"Fine," he mumbled. "Just great."

Snake gazed down at the teen, taking in his glazed expression and haunted eyes. Realizing it wouldn't be wise to press for more than that, he changed the subject slightly. "What happened when you got back to London then?"

"They sent me on more missions. Go figure that, right?"

Wolf suddenly slammed his fist into the door. "Damn it, Cub! You didn't have to agree!"

"I didn't really have a choice in the matter."

"Why was that?" Eagle asked gently.

"When they threaten to deport your friend-turned-practically-sister back to the United States after your uncle dies, I'd think you'd agree too. It was a mission or a boys' home."

"What about after you came back? She was gone by then…"

"Didn't have a reason _not_ to…"

"Uhm, how about living?" Eagle offered.

"And what do I have to live for, Eagle? All the family I have is dead. My friends all deserted me. I don't have any prospects outside of MI6; thanks to them, I got kicked out of school because I was gone more than I was there. I was in a homeschooling program in San Francisco, but…" He broke off, shaking his head. "Face it: I have nothing left. It didn't matter to them if I live or not. I'm just a convenient weapon. What does it matter if I die? It's not like there's anyone left to care."

"Surely you've still got one friend, Cub," Wolf stated more softly this time. "At least Ben…"

"No. I really don't. Ben gave up, just like everyone else. And the only friend I still had when I came back was Tom. And now he's dead. Because of me." He silently bit back the tears that threatened to overspill his eyes. "It's always because of me…" he whispered.

"_GO, Alex! Don't worry about me!" Tom called to his friend from where he was held in a headlock with a gun pointed at his head._

"_It's your choice, Rider," the man taunted. "Give yourself up and your friend goes free. It's you we want anyway, not him; our quarrel is with you. Put the gun down, Rider, and we'll let your friend go relatively unharmed."_

"_Don't worry about me, Al! Just get yourself out of here!"_

_Alex couldn't move. No. This was not happening… Not Tom, too… He made his decision then: He wasn't going to have anyone else die because of him. He slowly let his arm fall to his side, his fingers uncurling from around the weapon. Time seemed to slow down as the gun fell to the concrete with a clatter, Alex meeting his enemy's gaze with defeat evident in his eyes._

_Across the warehouse, the man smiled evilly. "Say goodbye to your friend, Rider."_

K-Unit was stunned. Was Cub… _crying?_ Even Wolf had to be concerned about what in the world had happened that he wasn't telling them about…

"Cub," Snake gently coaxed. "C'mon, kiddo; talk to me." Alex's only response was to bury his face under his arm. Snake sighed. This was _definitely _not good. What in the world had happened to the confident Cub they had all known at Beacons? This Alex was not the same person… He was the farthest thing from it. Snake laid a hand on each shoulder, gripping them lightly. "C'mon, Cub," he tried again. "Please?" No response. Snake sighed.

Wolf wasn't angry – not really – at least not at Alex. But somehow, his anger broke through, directed at Alex. "Damn it, kid!" he shouted, startling the cell's other occupants. "What the hell happened to the Cub we knew at Brecon Beacons, huh? The Cub who wouldn't give in to anybody! The Cub who fought against every snide remark we wrongfully threw at him! Huh? That Cub wouldn't just lie low and take this! He would fight with every iota of his being! Answer me, Alex; what happened to you?"

"You're right," came the muffled, shakily whispered answer. "I'm not the same person I was four years ago. That Cub is gone, buried somewhere in Australia or Africa, and there is no possible way to get him back. This Cub just wants to wake up from the nightmare he's been living since he was fourteen. This Cub just wants the world to be the way it should it be: With his parents and uncle and best friends all alive and well, his biggest worry being passing his GCSEs. The Cub you knew hadn't seen all of the things I have seen. So you're right. I'm not the same person anymore. So just let this worn-out shell disappear, will you? There's nothing left of me to save."

No one knew quite what to say after that. Surprisingly, it was Wolf who broke the silence – but not quite in the way the others would have liked. Wolf was still angry at MI6 for getting Alex into this mess, but he was also angry at the response he had gotten out of the teen.

"So that's it, huh? You're just giving up? You're just gonna lie down and let them win? Maybe we should have left you when we had the chance. I'm not so sure I want to try to save some sniveling brat."

Wolf's words had done exactly as he had intended them to. Alex's head popped up almost immediately, hurt evident in his face, eyes red-rimmed. "You don't know what you're talking about," he spat, and angry fire burning in his eyes. "I have seen more in the last four years than you're likely to see in your entire career! Don't try to pretend you know me or that you understand what I've been through. I've been to Hell, threw it, and then back again. I've worked for MI6, the CIA, and the ASIS. I've been to outer space, messed with the Chinese triads, and infiltrated a snakehead. I was betrayed by someone I thought I could trust. I watched two of the people closest to me die, and it was my fault they got involved in the first place! Every mission has taken a part of me with it. Well, guess what: There is nothing left to take. You should have left, you're right again. Because, like I already said, there is nothing left of me for you to save!" He stopped for a moment, breathing hard, before laying his head back down on the cold cement, closing his eyes. When he continued, his voice held his defeat. "Just let me die; everyone else already has."

If his outburst had only caught them off guard, his last statement completely stunned them. It took several moments of silence for them to comprehend what exactly he had just told them. But once it had sunk in, Wolf was even angrier – more so than Eagle and Snake had ever seen their unit leader.

"Damn it, Cub, you are _not _giving up this easily!" he whispered in a tone that left no room for argument. "If I have to personally make sure of that, then I will! Maybe you've given up on yourself, but we haven't. You hear me, Alex?"

The teen slowly raised his head, his now-empty eyes meeting Wolf's. "Yes. I hear you," he spoke, his tone flat. "But it's a little bit late for an intervention, wouldn't you say? I'm alive, Wolf, but I'm not living. So what's the point in continuing like I am? Don't you see? There is nothing left of me! Can't you see? I've been hoping for this for a long time. After I die…" He paused, shaking his head and returning his gaze to the floor. "What's the use? You wouldn't get it anyway. No one else has."

"Well, I don't know about the people you've tried to explain this to," Snake ventured quietly, "but I do know that I'm not yet one of them…"

"Every person I tried to tell declared me a suicide risk," he scoffed. "I'm _not_ suicidal. I'm just _not afraid_ _to die_, either."

"Which is why you just said that you've been hoping for something like this." Wolf crossed his arms over his chest. "That tells me the exact opposite."

"That doesn't make me suicidal. See? You don't understand."

"Then _help us _to understand, Alex."

He sighed, starting to get irritated. "Look, it's not like I'm just gonna get up and shoot myself, okay? It's not like that… It's just…" He trailed off, his brow creasing in thought. "Everyone has to die sometime. And I knew something like this would happen eventually. And I didn't fear it – I still don't even now, when it's staring me in the face. It's just… When I die, I'll get to see everyone I cared about that I lost. I have nothing left here. When I die, I can get back everything. It's not like I really _want_ to die, okay? I just… don't… want to live _this _life is all…"

"I get it." Everyone looked at Eagle in surprise for a very long moment. They had almost forgotten he was there; he hadn't said anything in several minutes.

Alex scoffed. "Yeah. I'm so sure you do."

"I'm serious, Alex. I get it. My little brother said almost the exact same thing two weeks before he ended his life. I know you said you don't actually want to die – and I completely believe you. But I've seen it, Alex. I get it. You think it's the only way out – the only way to be _happy _again, but it's not. You just… need a way out of your current situation, not life altogether. Am I at least close?"

"Something like that," Alex grunted. "Can't even play the minor card anymore since I'm not a minor. Not to mention the fact that you can't get back the past. Therefore, there is no other way. But if you have one, I'd love to hear it."

"We will _make _a way," Eagle stated confidently. "And that's a promise."

Alex glanced around to Wolf and Snake, who also nodded their confirmations. "Thank you," he muttered, suddenly feeling even more drained than he had before. The last time he'd bared his soul to someone, it had been Sabina. She had completely freaked out on him, and, a week later, he was sitting in the first of what would become many pointless therapy sessions – they didn't understand any more than she had. It was almost nice to have someone _not _freak out on him for once… The room was silent for a moment before: "Snake?"

"Yeah, Alex?"

"Can I sleep now?"

The medic sighed. "It would be better if you didn't. We need to get you out of here and to a proper medical facility."

"'m really tired though."

"I know, kiddo. Hopefully it won't be much longer. Can you stay awake for just a little bit longer?"

"Not making any promises…"

"Uhm, guys?" Wolf interrupted. "I think we're gonna have bigger problems than Alex falling asleep in a minute…"

As Snake glanced up and followed his unit leader's gaze, his eyes grew wide. "Oh holy night…" he muttered.

Sneaking through the minuscule crack between the floor and the door was a wisp of smoke.

"Looks like the fire from the explosion finally made it to the basement…"

* * *

**A/N: **Partial answers and more mysteries: I love being mean. =) By the way, a reviewer made me curious when she asked me this: Do the novels ever actually say that Alex has the luck of the devil? I'm pretty sure they do, but, honestly, I haven't read them in a while (with the exception of Scorpia Rising when I finally bought it…).

Anywho... Just like the previous two chapters, the preview bit stands. Review = Preview.

_Challenges_: Bouchard mentioned a man named Kaul. Who is he?  
What was the 'disturbing news' Sabina told her parents about Alex?  
How did Tom end up so involved in a mission that he was being used as bait? Why does Alex feel it's his fault (besides the obvious of getting him involved)?

**_IMPORTANT NOTICE FOR ALL READERS:_**Okay, so hopefully the underlined, bolded, italicized caps got your attention. Anywho, so I've been spoiling you guys with such quick updates that I didn't want you all to start wanting to murder me when I don't update all this week. And the previews? Sorry all, but no one is getting anything until Saturday. Why? I'm going to be without my laptop, cell phone, iPod, etc. for the entire week while I'm at camp. *Tears up* It's my last year. =( I'm probably gonna cry when we leave... Anywho, thanks for reading!


	8. Chapter 7 Safe and Sound

**Disclaimer: **Let's get this straight once and for all: I live in Iowa. I'm German. I'm not a man. If that doesn't tip you off to the fact that I don't own Alex Rider, then the fact that I'm writing _fanfiction _should. Obviously if I owned the series, this would be yet another novel.

**A/N: **Hello all! Thank your for being patient while I was away at camp last week! I had a blast, but, as such, this chapter is coming later than usual. It also didn't help that I debated for forever between the three different ways this chapter (and the next one) could have gone. The Original Idea, the Second Option, and the Third One that was completely different from the first two. I finally decided on the Second Option (though none of them really change the plot; they just changed the way and pace at which the plot develops if that makes sense).

Some of the _italics _are a flashback; the rest is Spanish. It's not difficult to figure out which is which.

* * *

"_Just close your eyes  
The sun is going down  
You'll be alright  
No one can hurt you now  
Come morning light  
You and I'll be safe and sound"  
__~Taylor Swift: Safe and Sound_

* * *

**Chapter Six – Safe and Sound**

_8:31 AM, Local Time – Outside the Compound, Mt. Paget_

"Mole to Porcupine. We've finally broken through the cave-in, but it's still going to take some time to make an opening large enough to continue in. Over."

"Roger that, Mole. Keep us posted."

"Over and out." The unit leader rubbed at the back of his head wearily. "Oi. Why can't these things ever go according to plan?" he mumbled to himself. "They'd better still be alive down there. If they're not… I'll kill them!" He checked his watch. Still almost four hours until the choppers would arrive. Hopefully they would have the rest of K-Unit out long before then. He let out a long sigh. 'Please be okay!'

* * *

_8:41 AM, Local Time – The Tunnel_

"We've gotta be almost back!" Mole stated. "C'mon!"

Damp handkerchiefs covering their mouths and noses to prevent smoke inhalation, the three SAS men plowed on. In a matter of minutes, they reached the heavy door that led back into the basement of the compound. Mole threw the slightly ajar door open, causing fireworks of ash, soot, and embers to explode into the air. Beaver, who already had his lock pick out and ready, dove through the flying embers and got to work on the door. As the lock snapped open, Mole was sure the man had to have set some sort of speed record – but he certainly couldn't say he wasn't glad for it. He burst through the door to find the three missing members kneeling on the floor where the air was clearer. They had all tied clothes over their faces as well.

"C'mon, let's get out of here! This place is coming down!"

Snake nodded. "Come help me lift him!"

It was then that Mole noticed the fourth figure lying on the floor in the midst of the other three. "What the…"

"We'll explain later," Wolf stated. "Let's get out of danger first, huh?"

Mole nodded, stepping forward and getting on the boy's side opposite of Snake. When they made to lift him, he cried out in pain.

"You still with me, Alex?" Snake asked apprehensively.

Alex blinked rapidly a few times until his vision came back into focus. "Barely," he panted. "Kinda feel like I'm gonna be sick…"

"Sorry, kiddo," Snake muttered. "Let's just get you out of here, hey?"

As quickly as they could, they made their way back into the tunnel, Squirrel pulling the door tightly closed behind them again to shut out as much smoke as possible. When they were a few yards into the tunnel, they slowed down some to accommodate for Alex.

"How are you holding up, Alex?" Snake asked as they continued down the tunnel, the air seeming to clear with each step. The only answer he received was Alex's ragged breathing. "Stop for a moment," the medic commanded. The others turned as Snake and Mole slowly lowered the teen to the ground. Snake quickly checked his vitals, at the same time taking in his ashen face and tightly closed eyes. "Alex? Just give me some indication that you can hear me, please." He grabbed his hand. "Just squeeze my hand, okay? Squeeze my hand if you can hear me." He sighed in relief as he felt the subtle tightening of Alex's hand around his own. He was obviously in horrible pain, but at least he was still conscious. He turned to Wolf. "We need to rest for bit. Alex is in no shape for this. That must have been why Bouchard left him even though he thought him so valuable."

Wolf nodded. "Okay. We should be fairly safe this far away from the compound, anyway. No worries of a cave in, and most of the smoke has cleared."

"Mole to Porcupine," Mole spoke into his radio. "We have K-Unit. Over."

"Thank God!" came the response. "Choppers are on the way. Get back as soon as you can. Over."

"We will, but it might be a while. K-Unit is fine, it seems, but they found a kid down there; he's in pretty bad shape. Over."

"I'll radio the choppers. Make sure they have plenty of medical supplies on board. Over."

"We're taking a break at the moment, but we'll get moving again as soon as we can. Over and out." He turned to Snake. "How's the kid? And what in the world happened, anyway?"

"Not sure what all he's been through," the medic responded, fingers at Alex's wrist still tracking his pulse. "As for how he's doing… It's not good. He's lost a lot of blood recently; to be honest, I'm a little surprised he hasn't gone into shock yet – or at least lost consciousness from the pain." He sighed. "How far does this tunnel go?"

"About a half mile," Beaver answered. "And in the opposite direction of the RVP, I'm afraid. It comes out on the other side of the ridge, out of sight of the compound."

Snake frowned. "He's not going to make it that far. Mole, I need you to radio the others and have a chopper sent our way when they get here. Uhm… Someone is gonna have to be up there so they know where we are…"

"Squirrel and I can go," Beaver volunteered.

"No." Snake shook his head. "I might be in need of a second medic. Mole?"

The addressed man nodded. "Not a problem." He turned to Beaver. "Let's head up that way. It won't take us as long to get there as the chopper will, but we might as well. I don't know what good we can do here, after all." Beaver nodded, and the two headed off down the tunnel. "Mole to Porcupine. Would it be possible to get a chopper sent our direction…?" His voice faded out as the pair hurried down the passage.

"Do you think he'll even be able to make it to the mouth of the tunnel?" Squirrel asked.

"In all honesty," Snake sighed, "I don't know. I knew it would be a risk to move him at all, but we couldn't just leave him behind… I don't know how he's held on thus far; guess he's a strong-willed kid…"

"You have no idea," Wolf grunted. "You didn't see him in the French Alps…"

Squirrel stared up, wide-eyed. "What are you talking about?"

The unit leader shook his head. "Long story. And not one that's really appropriate to be told right now."

He took the answer, simply shrugging his shoulders in response.

"Alex, can you still hear me?" Snake gently pried, one hand still holding the teen's hand, the other continuing to track his quickly deteriorating pulse. A miniscule tightening of his grip, far weaker than before. Snake's frown deepened. "He's fading out fast. If he loses consciousness, we're in trouble." He turned his attention back to the teen. Keeping his tone carefully calm and even, he continued to address Alex. "Hey, kiddo? You gotta stay with me, okay? I know it's hard, and I know you're in pain, but you've gotta stay with me as long as you can, okay? Help is on the way; you've just gotta hold on a little bit longer. Don't give up on me now, kiddo." Alex's hand tightened around Snake's slightly harder than the last time. "That's it, Cub. You're doing great. Just hang on. You'll be safe and sound before you know it. You just gotta keep hanging on."

"Any ideas on how we're going to get him out of here when he's barely stable?" Wolf murmured to Eagle.

The SAS man stood deep in thought for a moment. "I wonder how heavy he is," he mused. "I might be able to carry him… Would that work, do you think?"

He shrugged. "Snake or Squirrel would be the better one to ask about that…"

Eagle nodded. "It might be the only option we have. Obviously, he can't keep going being supported by two of us after all."

"Hm." Wolf frowned, turning to the two medics. "Do you think if one of us carried him, he would be okay?"

Squirrel answered since Snake was still talking softly to Alex, trying to keep him conscious as long as possible. "As long as whoever is carrying him is careful not to jar his injuries, I think that would be the best bet. Let's just hope we can get him stable enough to move at all; as it is right now, if we move him…" He shook his head.

Eagle winced. This day was just getting better and better.

* * *

_12:37 PM, Local Time – The Entrance to the Tunnel_

"Finally!" Mole sighed as the chopper came into view.

"Yeah," Beaver agreed. He frowned. "Too bad the others haven't been able to make it up yet…"

Mole's radio crackled to life. "This is chopper 7750 to ground unit. Please respond."

"Ground unit to 7750. We hear you," Mole responded. "We have five others still in the tunnel, one injured. I suspect that that's the hold up."

"Roger that, ground unit. Stand by, we are sending a man down to you." Even as these words were spoken, the door on the chopper opened and a man wearing a large, black backpack emerged, being lowered toward them. As soon as he hit the snow, he unclipped a hook that was quickly reeled back up.

"I am a doctor," the man spoke, pulling out his ID: Edward Nuverth. "What is the situation?"

"Last we knew," Mole answered, starting back down into the tunnel with the other two men following, "it was pretty bad. Squirrel has been radioing us updates now and again, and, last we heard, he was slipping in and out of consciousness. That was… about twenty minutes ago, I guess."

"What is the extent of his injuries?"

"We think he's been beaten – multiple times. He has a lot of lacerations across his back. That's about all we know."

Dr. Nuverth nodded. "I only hope the hospital in Stanley will be able to help – we aren't equipped for extensive injuries. It's four hours away as it is; the next closest is on the mainland in Rio Gallegos, Argentina – almost three hours from the Falklands."

Beaver palled. "I'm not sure he'll make it seven hours; heck, I'm not sure he'll make it four! Snake says it's a miracle he's made it as long as he has as it is! He said it wouldn't be so bad if they hadn't had to move him, but it was that or let him burn alive… Do you really think there's any chance?"

The doctor frowned as he sped his steps up. "I won't know until I see the damage."

* * *

_12:46 PM, Local Time – The Tunnel_

Wolf spun around at the sound of rapidly approaching footsteps. A moment later, three men came into view in the light of the flashlights that the SAS men had set up for light in the dark passage. "Thank God," he mumbled. Then, to the man he didn't recognize: "Who're you?"

"Dr. Edward Nuverth from the only hospital in the Falkland Islands." He brushed past the K-Unit leader and knelt beside the two SAS medics. "What's the verdict?"

"Been unconscious for about three minutes," Snake answered with a sigh. "I've done everything I can – which isn't much, I'm afraid. He's not stable enough to be moved, but we can't really stay here, either."

Dr. Nuverth scowled, taking one of Alex's wrists and checking his pulse. "We'll have to move him. We don't have another option. If we stay here much longer, I have the feeling we'll lose him completely. We need to move fast."

Eagle stepped forward. "I think if someone can help me get him up, I can carry him."

Wolf stepped up next him, clapping a hand on his comrade's shoulder. "Let's get this show on the road then!"

As the medics stood up and backed away, Wolf and Eagle stepped forward. After all of a minute, Eagle had Alex comfortably positioned, carrying him bridal-style, and the group moved out as quickly as they dared. Even so, it still took the better part of twenty minutes to reach the end.

As they burst into the cold sunlight, Wolf never thought the droning of a chopper circling overhead could sound so beautiful.

* * *

_9:33 PM, Local Time – Rio Gallegos, Argentina_

Snake rubbed at his eyes tiredly. Seven hours with limited space and limited supplies to keep Alex alive had certainly been trying. Just as Dr. Nuverth had suspected, the hospital in Stanley hadn't been well enough equipped to handle the mess that was the teen's injuries. The best the Falkland Islands' hospital could do was to help to better stabilize him before loading him into another helicopter and alerting the hospital in Rio Gallegos.

And they couldn't even tell Ben that Alex was actually alive. Both Wolf and Snake had tried multiple times to contact the man only to receive a busy signal or the answering machine. The medic almost smiled as he tried to picture Ben's reaction when they would finally tell him; he had been so – _detached _when he had told them, but Snake had still been able to tell that his old friend and ex-comrade had some connection to the teen – some connection past the ten days of training they had spent together.

_K-Unit laughed heartily. "Ah! Those were the good ol' days!" Eagle chortled. "Man! I wish you had never been binned, Ben. It's just not quite the same without you."_

"_Yeah," Wolf sighed. "By the way, you never did tell us what happened…"_

_Ben shifted uncomfortably. "Yeah, well… It's not really that important is it?"_

"_I guess not," the unit leader conceded. "Hey, you remember those last few days? With that one kid?" He shook his head. "I haven't thought about it a long time, but I almost wonder what the brat is up to now days…"_

_Ben's expression instantly turned cold. "He's dead." K-Unit stared at him in shock, the silence palpable around them. What? _Dead?_ "So," Ben asked after a moment, forcing a smile to return to his face, "I'm starting to get hungry. Who wants Chinese?"_

Snake stiffened as he recalled the conversation. Ben had been awfully hesitant to tell them why he had been binned. And none of them had dared to ask how he knew that Cub was dead. Could it be possible that Ben, too, worked for MI6 now? He shook his head. That was a little far-fetched… Or was it? After all, he mused, it was a little far-fetched that the government would use a teen, too…

His head snapped up as the door opened to the cordoned off area of the Emergency Room. As one, K-Unit stood up as a doctor headed for them.

"_You are the ones who brought in the boy?" _he asked Spanish.

Eagle nodded. "_How is he?"_ he asked in fluent Spanish.

The doctor sighed. "_It is hard to say. He needed a blood transfusion, but that is difficult to do without a known blood type. We used valuable time to test a miniscule sample. But, in the end…" _ He paused, shaking his head. _"He is in the Intensive Care Unit. Multiple IVs for fluids, broad spectrum antibiotics, blood. His breathing and heart are being closely monitored. I'm not going to lie to you, gentlemen. His condition is severe – we almost lost him. But, God willing, he will pull through with enough time."_

"_Gracias," _Wolf stated with a sigh. "_May we see him?"_

"_I am not sure that is a good idea…"_

"_Por favor," _Snake begged. "_Por favor…" Please…_

The doctor sighed, running a hand through what little was left of his white hair. _"You won't like what you see," _he warned. The three members of the unit stared back with resolve. Beckoning for them to follow, he moved towards the elevator. _"I will show you up, but you can't stay long."_

"_If we can't stay in the room, at least let us stay near it. Outside his door or something."_

The doctor raised an eyebrow. _"Why should I?"_

Wolf frowned. _"Because he may be in great danger."_

"_We have security personnel."_

"_I know, but I think I speak for all of us when I say it would make us feel better to be near him."_

"_I'm afraid I cannot allow that. The doors to the ICU close at eight PM, and the only way anyone can access it after that time is with an ID badge. So, you see, he will be perfectly safe."_

Wolf sighed inwardly, resigned. He knew there was no way he would be able to convince the doctor unless he somehow managed to get clearance to tell the man what Alex had told them while they had been waiting to be rescued. And there was no way he would be able to do that. "_Alright. But we want to sit outside of the door then."_

The doctor nodded. _"That can be arranged. In fact, there is already a room off the hallway for relations to patients in the ward for the hours they are not allowed to be with their loved ones. You will have a view of the door from there."_

"_Are there any elevators that connect the ICU to other parts of the building?"_

"_Yes, but they are not authorized for use between the hours of eight PM and six AM, except in the event of emergency or the transporting of patients into the ICU. I assure you, the boy is safe here."_

Wolf nodded as the doctor swiped his card to gain access to the ICU. Besides, he thought, the guy they had encountered on the island was probably long gone by now, thinking that they were all dead. And yet, he couldn't seem to shake the warning that sat like a rock in his gut.

But that worry was quickly forgotten when the doctor gestured through a window into a room. Wolf felt as though he'd just been punched in the gut. It really was worse than he had thought… In the room, dwarfed by the numerous machines around him, was their little Cub. Tubes and wires seemed to stick out from seemingly every available inch of his body, several in his arms, some disappearing under the thin blanket and hospital gown covering him, even one in his mouth to help him breath. He hardly looked human.

Eagle stared, equally shocked and sickened at the sight. How had this happened? When they had found him, he hadn't been this bad! …Had he? Eagle had to admit, he didn't really know now. Cub's condition _had_ been pretty dire even when they had first stumbled on him…

"_To be perfectly honest with you," _the doctor spoke softly into the silence, "_he may not even make it through the night. I don't know how he made it here from the Falkland Islands – he shouldn't have. If he can make it through the night – well, I won't say that he'll be out of the woods then, but it'll be a start. Though, don't hold your hopes too high; even if he makes it through the night, he may never wake up."_ He paused for a moment. "_Now then. I think it is time for you to leave. When visiting hours resume, you will be allowed back in to see him. Until then… It's just a matter of waiting."_

"_He'll wake up," _Wolf stated confidently. _"This kid's not one to give up."_

"_Though his will may be strong, his body is very weak," _the doctor sighed. _"As I've said before, we almost lost him once already. There is no guarantee that it won't happen again."_

"_He'll make it," _Wolf maintained. _"You'll see; I know he will."_

Even as the K-Unit leader was speaking, his words were falling on deaf ears. No one seemed to hear the words as all attention was suddenly focused on the teen as an alarm sounded in the corridor. For even as the leader spoke, Alex's heart monitor traced a flat line across the screen.

Wolf could only stare, his mind screaming. No… NO!

"_Code Blue, ICU," _a voice alerted over the speaker system. _"Code Blue, ICU…"_

* * *

**A/N:** *Looks at angry readers ready to kill with torches and pitch forks* Please don't kill me... If you do, then I won't be able to update...

In case anyone wondered (not that anyone really reads these things, but...): Original Idea- Alex is kidnapped right after they exit the tunnel. Third One - The doctor that came on the chopper works under Bouchard. He kidnaps Alex, leaving the SAS men behind.

_Challenges: -_Is Dr. Nuverth a good guy, a bad guy, or just a random character I added for the heck of it?  
-Multiple times you've seen Ben worry about Alex. What is the relationship between them?  
-We don't know much about K-Unit from the novels, but, for the sake of my story, they stay in touch even after Ben is 'binned.' Why?  
-They managed to escape. Do you think that Bouchard underestimated the lengths to which the SAS men would go to retrieve their own, or is he somehow behind this as well?

As has been for the past few chapters, review = preview. =)


	9. Chapter 8 Second Chances

**Disclaimer: **I just realized I have two chapters that say they are chapter four. *Facepalm* So obviously I'm not smart enough to be the creator.

**A/N: **Oh. My. Word. OVERWHELMED. That's all I have to say about the number of reviews I received last chapter. (Granted, not all of them were _for _the previous chapter... But that doesn't matter!) Because of the 35 reviews sitting in my inbox all at once, I got busy and got this chapter finished yesterday. You guys are just that awesome. =D Special thanks to crookedcat (guest), Lavi (guest), and princess dude (guest) who all took the time to go back and review even though they had all previously read all the chapters (and to the one who suggested my story in the first place to the other two... once again, overwhelmed!). But also to Guest and Kitchen Klutz for reviewing as they went! And, oh yeah, all of you who normally review or at least review once in a while. =) (Sorry, not gonna list every one of you; that would take too long ;)) Love you all for taking the time to do so!

WARNING: It's a bit confusing with Alex. It's okay; it's supposed to be. I hope it explains itself, but, if it doesn't, just let me know. Oh, and Wolf goes a little parental. Seems a bit out of character, but it is explained next chapter. And Army guys aren't all hard-hearted, after all - I should know; my brother-in-law is Army, and I don't know a guy who loves his three kids more. =)

* * *

**Chapter Eight – Second Chances**

_1:43 PM Local Time, Five Days Later – Rio Gallegos Hospital, Argentina_

Eagle stared with unseeing eyes at the teen before him. How had this been allowed to happen? It wasn't right! Those unmoral bigots at MI6… Because of them, Alex –a mere _teenager _– was lying before him, comatose. Eagle shook his head. None of this ever should have happened in the first place… He shouldn't even know the kid…

He looked up, his thoughts interrupted, as the door opened. "Hey. Any luck?"

Wolf shook his head. "None. Ben's still not answering, and I don't even know who else to try." He plopped down rather unceremoniously into one of the two vacant chairs. "Snake went to rustle us up some chow…"

Eagle nodded vaguely, turning his attention back to the lifeless body in the bed. "We've gotta do something about this, Wolf," he muttered. "It's not right… But what can we even do? I mean, he had a good point. He never graduated, so the only job prospect he has is MI6…"

Wolf sighed. "We'll figure something out. I don't know what yet, but we will. We promised, after all. And if I personally have to go shoot the heads of MI6, then I will." He sighed. "But, as much as I hate to admit it, Eagle, we might not have the chance to help him; he has to wake up first…"

"I know," Eagle nodded. "He is getting better though. That ought to count for something, right? I mean, he's at least breathing on his own now. He's getting stronger…"

Wolf sighed again. "Doesn't mean he's going to wake up. I talked to the doctor. Enough has been done to cause lasting psychological damage just from what all they think he went through on the island. Add everything he told us previously on top of that… Apparently, a person's mind can just shut down with the right stimuli. The physical damage caused his body to shut down; his comatose state allowed his mind to shut down. If he doesn't have the will to wake up, then he just might not wake up." (1)

"How did it come to this?" Eagle asked after a moment. "I mean, even back when he found him… He at least still had some fight left in him. If he hadn't, he never would have risen to your words. That was smart, ya know – you calling him a sniveling brat to get him to talk…"

Wolf almost smiled. "I thought so." His face turned completely serious once again. "As for how it came to this… He was okay when he didn't have to move because all of his strength could be focused on staying conscious and on what he was saying. As soon as we moved him… Well, he had to try to stay conscious along with coping with the additional pain that came with being moved. His energy was spent on his retorts towards me, as well…"

"So I guess it wasn't that smart," Eagle frowned.

Wolf rubbed the back of his neck. "No… Not really… But it's not like we could have known; heck, I'm not sure even Snake fully knew how bad his condition was."

The two looked up when the door opened again, revealing the last member that was present in Rio Gallegos, holding a brown paper bag. He set it down on the last unoccupied chair and pulled out two sandwiches. "Here," he stated, holding them out. When they only stared at the food, Snake sighed in frustration. "You need to eat. You won't be helping Alex any if you end up in hospital beds yourselves."

Eagle and Wolf looked at each other for a moment before deciding that the medic had a point and took the sandwiches from Snake's outstretched hands.

But, as Wolf started to take a bite, all food was suddenly forgotten. Eagle stopped, bread, meat, and cheese half way to his mouth, eyes bugging out of his head. Snake's head whipped around. As the three SAS men slowly approached the bed, they watched as the comatose teen's eye lids fluttered briefly before stilling again. The three almost thought they had imagined it until they heard another small moan a moment later as they continued to stand next to his bed.

"Is he…?" Eagle whispered.

"Maybe," Snake murmured, perching on the edge of the bed. "Alex? Can you hear me?"

* * *

"_Alex? Can you hear me?"_

Alex rolled over, burying his head under his arm. No. He didn't want to get up yet. His bed was so soft and warm and he had found the most comfortable position… Wait; _his _bed? How on earth had he gotten there? Hmmm… Maybe luck really was on his side – maybe all of everything had just been one bad dream?

Even as he speculated to himself, he felt a warm hand rest on his shoulder, a deep voice – speaking urgently – accompanying the gesture. "Alex? Can you hear me? Please wake up, child..."

That voice… it felt familiar somehow, though Alex couldn't place name or face to whom it belonged. He cracked one eye open and immediately gasped, both eyes flying open now as he bolted upright in his bed – a little too quickly he soon found out as the world tilted dangerously around him. Strong arms caught him, supported him as they cradled his head to their owner's chest.

"Easy, there!" the man cautioned. "You're alright; you're okay. It's all over now."

"I – I don't understand," Alex whispered hoarsely. "Ian?"

"I'm here, child. It's alright."

"What happened? Where am I? What's going on?"

"Hush now," his uncle whispered, rocking gently back and forth. "It's all over now."

"_What _is over?" Alex was becoming more and more confused by the minute. Maybe all of that had been a nightmare after all…?

Ian pulled back slightly, looking Alex in the eyes, concern evident in every feature. "You were having a nightmare, Alex. But it's over now." He pulled his nephew close again. "Let it all fade away now."

He… He _had_ been dreaming? Alex couldn't fathom that – everything had seemed so real… Even though that had been what he had been hoping for, it seemed too good to be true. And yet, right now he didn't care if it seemed unlikely. Ian was alive; he himself wasn't a spy then. Everything was the way it was before. And that was all that mattered.

"_C'mon, Alex… Please wake up."_

Alex started. There was no one else in the room, but someone had definitely just pleaded with him to wake up – and it hadn't been his uncle. Not to mention the fact that he was already awake.

"Alex? Hey, it's okay. Relax," his uncle soothed.

"Ian?"

"Yes?"

Alex hesitated. This was probably going to sound really strange to his uncle. "Is anyone else here?"

Ian frowned. "No… I don't believe so. Just the housekeeper. Why do you ask?"

"I just thought I heard someone, that's all."

"_Please, Alex! Don't give up on us now!" _A different voice came fuzzily through his mind – this one much gruffer than the first. _"Not after everything else you've been through! You've come too far for that!"_

"_C'mon, Alex. Wolf is right. Just please…" _A third voice.

Alex frowned. 'Wolf?' What kind of a name was that, for one thing? He mentally berated himself. He must be crazy – hearing voices in his head! And yet… They sounded vaguely familiar, like those of an old friend or acquaintance – of someone he both did and yet didn't want to remember. He mentally shook himself. They were probably just from that horrid nightmare – and if that was the case, then he didn't want to think about them. "Then it really is over?" he whispered. "You… You really are just a banker?"

His uncle laughed lightly. "Yes, it is over! And what else would I be?"

"I thought… In the dream… You worked for MI6…"

"Military Intelligence?" Ian raised an eyebrow. "That must have been some nightmare!"

Alex breathed a sigh of relief. "It was… You – you died in it…"

His uncle hugged him tighter. "I assure you, I'm not dead, Alex. That's always the good thing about nightmares, I suppose: They always end, and there isn't an ounce of truth in them!"

"_Please wake up…"_

Alex chose to ignore the voice this time. Maybe it would just go away then… Instead, he basked in the warmth and comfort of having his uncle near. One thing he knew for certain: If this was the dream instead, he never wanted to wake up.

* * *

_6:43 AM, Local Time (1:43 PM, Argentina), The Same Day – Bora Bora Island in the South Pacific_

"I can't believe you practically handed him back to the enemy."

The cold calmness of this partner's voice sent a chill down Bouchard's spine. The man seriously scared him sometimes. "I'll admit that perhaps it wasn't the smartest decision I've ever made, but –."

The other man cut him off. "I would say that to be a drastic understatement. We still need Rider even if he doesn't have the information we need."

"I am just as aware of that as you are, Sanjeet. Which is why I still have a plan."

Kaul raised an eyebrow. "I would love to know how you intend to fix the mess you have gotten us in, Bouchard," he stated coldly. "Because now MI6 will be aware that their little superspy is still alive and well – _months _before we are ready to begin that phase. We would still have to change the plan, even_ if_ we could get him back. But we won't have the chance to get him back, you see, because MI6 isn't that stupid. They'll ship him off to a safe house until The Amara has fallen. And you intend to fix this? How, pray tell?"

Bouchard grinned. "Because I orchestrated the whole ordeal. You always told me to have a back-up plan, after all, in case something went awry. When they found us, I set it in motion. But, I also had to call on plan C in the process. I visited Alex that morning, you see, and… Well, let's just say it wasn't a wise idea to move him at the time."

Kaul narrowed his eyes menacingly. "I thought I warned you about this…"

"He wasn't in any danger. Or, at least, not until those SAS men invaded. He would have healed and survived, just like always. Anyway, we used the escape tunnel, set a false trail, and sat in wait for a while. I knew that the other SAS men wouldn't leave behind the ones I trapped inside even after I set off an explosion. I decided that if they could get him out, then fine. Otherwise, well, it wasn't worth the risk of time on my part, so he would simply die. I knew you wouldn't be pleased, but…" He shrugged.

"You still have yet to tell me how you intend to salvage the operation."

"Ah, yes. Well, it's simply really. Rider is currently at the hospital in Rio Gallegos, Argentina. All we have to do is pull him out. As for fixing the plan… Well, I have it all outlined here in this notebook."

Kaul skimmed the contents, a smile slowly forming on his lips. "Yes… Yes, I suppose this could work," He mused. The smile was quickly replaced with a frown, however. "But to get Rider back… That's rather a larger risk than I would like to take. We need to keep our loyalists alive, after all; and since I have no doubt that there are still SAS men around that hospital…"

"There are," Bouchard confirmed, "but it really is simple, my friend. I have a friend you see… He may not be a warrior on our side, but he definitely supports our cause and has already helped us out immensely. As soon as I give the word, Alex Rider will be back within our grasp."

Kaul grinned, an evil, spine-chilling sight. "And you are sure he won't turn tail?"

"Positive." Bouchard nodded.

"Well, then," Kaul grinned wider. "When can we get him back?"

Bouchard tensed. He knew his superior wouldn't take this bit of news well. "I am unsure, Sanjeet…"

Kaul's smile instantly vanished, his eyes narrowing. "_What?"_ he spat.

"His injuries are healing," Bouchard hurried on. "But my contact – a doctor – is unsure when he will wake, if ever… And he is not actually heading up the case. He managed to convince the doctor who is heading it to let him assist, though, which is all it will take in the end. But… I'm sure he will wake, Sanjeet. It is just a matter of time."

"You had better hope he does, Damien, or it will be you who dies a painfully slow death next."

Bouchard gulped. "I will not fail The Amara."

"See to it that you don't. I am not a particular fan of having to kill off my second in command. Just get him here alive, Damien, and _uninjured_. Clear?"

"Crystal, Sanjeet."

"Good." Kaul smiled cruelly. 'Oh, Alex,' he thought. 'You have no idea what you've gotten yourself into!'

* * *

_4:13 PM, Local Time, The Same Day – Rio Gallegos, Argentina_

"Alex? …Alex!" Ian repeated.

"Huh? What?" Alex finally responded, looking up from the spaghetti he had been pushing around his plate instead of eating.

His uncle sighed. "Are you actually going to eat anything or just play with it?"

Alex looked back down at this plate. "Just not that hungry, I guess."

With yet another sigh, Ian sat his fork back down on his plate. "You've been acting strangely ever since that nightmare two nights ago. Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not really," he shrugged. "I'd rather just forget about it, but… Somehow I can't. It was horrible. …Everyone I ever cared about either was killed or abandoned me completely."

"I know it's difficult to wake from a dream so realistic and just forget it," Ian stated. "But you can't live in a dream for the rest of your life. If you do, you're not really living life, are you?"

Alex shifted uncomfortably. "But… What if that was what's real, and this is the dream?" It felt strange to say, but he needed some kind of reassurance that what was in front of him now was reality.

"Is it?"

"What?" Alex's head snapped up. That hadn't been the answer he had been hoping for!

"Only you can tell your reality from your dreams, Alex. If I'm just part of your dream, then I could easily tell you that this is reality if that's what you want to hear – because it's all in your head. But if this is reality, you'll know that on your own, as well."

"No. I really can't tell right now!" Alex spat in frustration. "Because that sounds like something you would say! But because I know you, even if I was dreaming, you would still say something like that and… I think I've just successfully confused myself more than I was before…" He slumped down, resting the side of his head against his hand. "Can't you just tell me?"

Ian smiled. "I think you already know the answer to that, at least. I've brought you up to decide for yourself what is truth, haven't I? Therefore, I cannot tell you. Do you believe this to be reality?"

"I – I want to. It's so much better than that nightmare I was living..."

"But you know the truth in your heart. You know I was killed, Alex. That I was a spy for MI6. You cannot deny what you know to be true."

Alex met his uncle's eyes resolutely. "You know what, Ian? I don't care anymore if this is the dream. I'd much rather live in a dream than go back to – to _that_."

Ian sighed. "If that is your wish. I'm just part of your mind, Alex – part of your memories. I cannot change anything. This is reality, my nephew, for you have made it so."

"_Alex. I don't know if you can hear me or not…"_

That voice again! Alex promptly ignored it. And yet, he couldn't help but to hear it anyway.

"_But, I guess, I just want to apologize. I told you I respected you, but I never apologized. If I had known then what I know now… Well, you wouldn't be lyin' here right now, for one thing…"_

What was that supposed to mean? Alex just wanted the voice to go away! He didn't want to hear it for that meant this wasn't reality! And this _would be _his reality!

"_I guess… I just wish there was something we could do. Please. Please just wake up. I don't know what we're gonna do yet, but I promised you back there on South Georgia Island that we were gonna help you. And we will! But you gotta wake up first… Please, Cub…"_

"Shut up!" Alex found himself yelling out loud, covering his ears with his hands and closing his eyes. "Just shut up! I don't want to hear you – _any _of you!"

"You cannot fight the truth, my nephew." Alex looked up again, meeting his uncle's gaze and slowly lowering his hands away from his ears again. "You cannot live in a dream. Not when you still have a life to live. And you _do _still have life to live. I didn't raise you to give up when your situation looks bleak at best. Making a choice is the toughest part of life – not all of them make you happy, but you've got to choose them – for a better life! _Go, Alex! _ Choose to go back to where you belong!"

Alex stared at his uncle's smiling face as it started to fade to black. "Ian…"

He nodded. "_Live, Alex! For all of us…"_

The house back in Chelsea faded, his uncle and the wonderful world with it. The comforting ticking of the hall clock was replaced by an obnoxious, steady bleeping. Instead of a wooden chair beneath him, he could feel the coarse sheets he had come to associate with hospitals. Most mysteriously was the hand that was clasped gently over his own. Perhaps it belonged to that last voice he had heard? But he couldn't recall whose voice it had been – which privately disturbed him. But then it started talking again in a low, sincere tone.

"I hope you can forgive us, Cub. And, if you ever wake up, I'll actually explain – 'cause, believe it or not, there is a reason, albeit not really a good one…"

Maybe he would, he thought, his mind finally registering the voice as Wolf's, as the sounds started to fade back out. After all, they wouldn't be around much longer, anyway. He was a danger to everyone he came into contact with – better it be people only in MI6, people whose lives were already at risk. He would part ways with K-Unit soon, and that would be that. But he wouldn't give up – Ian had been right about one thing, after all: He had to make life better – if only for everyone else.

So he would keep fighting. If only for John and Helen, for Ian, for Jack, for Tom… He would keep fighting.

* * *

Wolf looked up as the door to Alex's hospital room opened. Snake and Eagle entered, looking as down-trodden as ever. They obviously still hadn't had any luck then. "Ya know," Wolf muttered, "I don't think this is working. That and I've run out of things to say…"

Snake sighed. "It may seem like a waste of time, but hearing is the first sense to return to a comatose person. Subconsciously, they draw on that. Especially if it's a voice the person recognizes. We just… have to keep trying…" (1) He sat down in a chair, his head falling into his hands. "Why do I feel like we're fighting a losing battle here?"

Wolf absentmindedly rubbed his thumb against the side of Alex's hand. "Maybe because we are?" he offered. "Let's face it: He's not going to wake up because whatever world is in his head is better than the real one…"

The three men were silent for a moment, the only sound in the room the steady beeping of Alex's heart as it traced a jagged path on the monitor. When Eagle finally spoke, it broke the silence like the shattering of glass in a great, open hall. "What are we doing?" he whispered. "What is with all this giving up suddenly? We didn't just give up on him back in that tunnel, so why are we now?"

Snake stared at the man with slightly widened eyes before returning his gaze to the teen in the bed. "It's true that the situation isn't beyond hope," the medic sighed. "It's just growing more and more unlikely as each day passes."

"Yeah," Eagle snorted. "I'm sure that's what Cub thought about someone finding him, too – in fact I _know _that's what he thought; he told us in no uncertain terms that no one was coming for him."

"Ya know, he really does have a point," Wolf commented. "We can't give up on him… If we do, we're just like everyone else."

Snake stared at the unit leader, not knowing quite how to respond. _Just like everyone else…_ Everyone else had let him down time and time again. MI6… The Pleasures… Even Ben, according to Alex. No, Snake decided; they would _not_ be _just like everyone else. _

Snake pulled his chair closer to the bed. Grabbing onto Alex's other hand, he spoke using the same tone and level as he had in the tunnel days before. "Alex? I don't know if you can hear me, but… Don't you dare give up! I know it's hard, but you've gotta keep fighting!" He gently squeezed the teen's hand. "You hear me, Cub? Don't. Give. Up!"

Silence reigned in the hospital room after Snake's small speech. But it was quickly broken.

Suddenly, Snake gasped. Wolf and Eagle glanced over with questioning gazes. The medic didn't answer, instead addressing Alex again. "Alex? If you can hear me, squeeze my hand again." The other two SAS men's eyes widened at the indirect answer. Snake smiled as he once again felt the familiar, though subtle, tightening of the teen's hand around his own.

"We're here for you, Cub," Wolf added, gently squeezing the hand still under his own. "All three of us: Wolf, and Snake, and Eagle. We're all here." He was rewarded with the same acknowledgement that Snake had gotten: He could hear them, but he wasn't entirely awake yet.

Snake picked the conversation back up again. "That's right, Alex. And we're not going anywhere." He took his other hand and used it to brush the bangs away from Alex's eyes. "Can you open your eyes for us, Cub? Just for a moment?" he coaxed.

The three watched as the teen's eyelids fluttered for a moment without opening. A low moan made its way out through his slightly parted lips, but, other than that, he remained closed off from their world. He tried a second to open his eyes, but they only fluttered futilely again, remaining sealed.

Eagle stepped closer and rested a hand his shoulder. "C'mon, kiddo! You can do it! I know you can."

Alex groaned again and turned his head to the side, but otherwise remained lost in his own mind.

Snake sighed lightly, resting his hand on Alex's head. "It's okay, kiddo. I know it's hard; I know you're exhausted. It's okay if you can't yet. We're just glad you're back with us."

For a moment, they thought he had fallen asleep or lost consciousness again. But, just as they started to relax and draw conclusions, they were proven wrong.

With a quiet moan that drew their attentions immediately back to him, Alex's eyelids squeezed shut before slowly blinking open, his dazed, brown eyes finally taking in the hazy images of the three SAS men crowded around him.

Snake smiled, relief clearly evident in his countenance. "Welcome back, Alex."

* * *

_"But it's not my time I'm not going_  
_There's a fear in me it's not showing_  
_This could be the end of me_  
_And everything I know_  
_But it's not my time I'm not going_  
_There's a will in me and now it's gonna show_  
_This could be the end of me_  
_And everything I know…_  
_But I won't go"_  
_~Three Doors Down: It's Not My Time_

* * *

**A/N: **Yes, I added two, little (1)'s in there. I'm not that knowledgable about anything medical, so I thought I should make the **disclaimer** that I don't know if that stuff is true; I just heard it somewhere once. I did try to look it up but didn't find anything helpful.

_Challenges: _- What do Bouchard and Kaul need Alex for if they already know he doesn't have any information?  
- What is Bouchard's plan to get Alex back?  
- Whatever the plan is, will K-Unit be able to pretect Alex?

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	10. Chapter 9 Battlefield

**Disclaimer: **Not a middle-aged man. I think that's enough said about that.

**A/N: **Oh. My. Freaking. Word. I don't know what to say. _Sixty-eight total reaviews last chapter!_ That is the most I've ever gotten. That being said, special thanks to my return reviewers: ElodieKumari94, Blissful Winter, Writers4All (Writer With Sprite), crookedcat (guest), princess dude (guest), Mythomagic-Champion, MonssterUnderYourBed, Glissoning Raven, and anyone else I may have accidently missed! Also to Zmaze (guest), PhoneAFriend (guest), copynpaste (guest), and the guest who liked to type a lot of numbers for his/her name (or was that more than one of you?) for reviewing multiple chapters as they went. And, of course, to the people who reviewed last chapter alone. =) Because of you guys, I pulled this chapter out in a couple of hours (very rough, then it was, mind you..), and now, without further ado, here it is. =)

_Italics _are flashbacks, dreams, and conversations in Spanish. I would hope you can figure out which is which. ;)

* * *

**Chapter Nine – Battlefield**

_7:31 AM Local Time, Two Days Later – Rio Gallegos, Argentina_

"By the way… I forgive you, Wolf."

The unit leader sighed as he glanced up at the teen from his position standing next to the window. "You're supposed to be asleep."

"I know," Alex yawned, opening his eyes. "But I wanted to tell you before I forgot again."

"I didn't even know if you heard me or not."

"I did sometimes," he replied after a moment. "Most of the time it was just bits of conversations that didn't make sense to me, but I definitely heard you apologize. You said there was a reason?"

Wolf sighed again, taking up residence in the chair beside the bed. "You're supposed to be sleeping."

"Just tell me. Then I'll go to sleep. I promise," Alex mumbled, yawning yet again.

Wolf raised an eyebrow in amusement. "I'm not sure you'll stay awake long enough to hear it." At Alex's insistent – albeit tired – look, he continued. "Well, if you think about it, we did have a right. Kind of, anyway. I mean, it's still inexcusable, the way we treated you, but…" He paused, sighing. "We all worked our butts off to get there. Then, out of nowhere, we get a fourteen-year old dropped on us – _and _you managed to keep up with us; that was the biggest reason we were angry at you, I think. But that didn't mean we should have treated you the way we did – and for that, I'm sorry. It was wrong of us, and I know the other guys feel the same." He shook his head. "You were just a kid; being there didn't give us the right to make your life Hell when you didn't want to be there any more than we wanted you to be."

Alex nodded, his eyes drooping closed. "I get it," he murmured, his words starting to slur together. "Sounds like good reason to me…"

Wolf allowed himself a small smile at Alex's effort to try to stay awake. Then, in a commanding voice that held no real air of authority, he spoke insistently. "_Sleep."_

"Jus' one more question," he muttered.

Wolf sighed. "Fine," he answered, knowing that Alex would probably fall asleep before he could answer it anyway. The poor kid was still so exhausted.

"What made you go so parental?"

"Huh?" Wolf was dumb-founded – that certainly hadn't been what he had expected to hear…

"What made you so parental?" he repeated, letting his eyelids fall closed. "Snake, maybe, but not you. No offense, but you always struck me as the one who wouldn't care a thing about me…"

Wolf sighed again – or maybe he should have expected that. "Believe it or not, Alex, I care more than you think. Like I just said a minute ago, we were all angry that a kid could keep up with seasoned soldiers. And I'll admit it: I've got a bit of a temper and tend to hold grudges. Had I known then... Cub, I've got nieces and nephews, if you remember me telling you that. Had I known then, I would have fought as hard for you as for one of them to keep you away from MI6 – no matter how good you are or how useful you were to them, it was still _wrong _for them to use you like they did. Now, especially after everything that's happened, I guess… What I'm trying to say is, we're a team; we look after each other – and that includes you, Cub."

Alex nodded slightly, catching the underlying message: _They've done enough damage, but never again_. "Thank you," he murmured. The foreign-but-comfortable feeling of security started to edge its way into his chest; someone was looking out for him again. The last person to truly try to look out for his well-being had been… _Jack…_ Security was quickly replaced with a full sense of cold dread. "But you can't," he choked out.

"What do you mean?" Wolf asked, confused. "Of course I can. And we will, too."

"No!" Alex practically shouted, his eyes flying open. "You can't! I won't let you!"

Wolf was taken aback at the raw emotion in the teen's normally vacant eyes. "Why not?"

"Because," Alex whimpered. "They're all dead… All because of me…"

Wolf frowned. "What are you talking about, Alex?" he asked carefully. He knew that the kid wasn't one to talk about anything personal just from their experience in the compound, so he was going to take this obvious opportunity and fly with it wherever it went.

Alex turned his face towards the window, one lone tear sliding down his cheek. "She said that, too, Wolf. She just wanted to protect me, and she died trying. Don't you see? It's my fault!"

The unit leader's frown deepened in concentration, trying to comprehend what the teen was saying.

Alex continued, his voice strained with emotion. "If I hadn't accepted that stupid mission to Cairo, she would still be alive. It's my fault she's dead!"

_Cairo._ Wolf remembered hearing about an incident there a few years before… Something about an attempt on an American ambassador's life? Julius Grief, a kid who had apparently been a clone of some crazy guy, had been killed, as had the driver of a car as it hit a land mine in the dessert… All three had been believed to be connected back to Scorpia. Something wasn't right here…

But before he could possibly work out what was wrong, Alex opted to continue – a rare moment, Wolf knew. "A-and then there was him… He shouldn't have died! He never should have been there to begin with! If I had just locked him in the closet like I had planned…"

"_You can't possibly expect me to stay here." Tom stood with his arms folded over his chest in Alex's bedroom._

"_Yes. Actually I do," Alex responded from where he sat on his bed. "And if you don't agree, then I will lock you in the closet – and don't think I won't, 'cause you know I will."_

"_Why can't I?"_

"_You already know why," Alex whispered, averting his gaze to the floor boards._

_Ton sat down beside him. "Fine. I'll stay here. I won't like it, though. I never have liked it."_

"_I know," Alex muttered. "Thank you. I just don't want anyone else getting hurt because of me."_

"_And what about _you_, Alex? Every time you go on one of these missions, you come back a little more damaged. What about _you _getting hurt?"_

"Alex?" Wolf shook his shoulder, but the teen was too far gone to somewhere Wolf knew he could never reach.

_Alex stared down at his phone as it vibrated in his hand. He had just returned from a mission and was patiently waiting for Tom to text him back. But it wasn't vibrating for a text alert; someone was calling him. 'Unknown Number' the screen read. He knew he shouldn't answer it, but… He hit the 'Accept' key. "Hello?"_

"_Alex Rider?"_

"_Who is this? And how did you get this number?"_

"_That's not important. What _is _important, on the other hand, is your little friend, Tom Harris. If you're not on the Putney Bridge over the River Thames at midnight tonight, your friend dies. Come alone or your friend dies. You'll be given further instructions upon your arrival." The line went dead._

_Alex was shaking uncontrollably, a cold sweat soaking the back of his shirt and the bangs over his forehead, despite the cool, spring night. "No," he whispered. "No…"_

"Alex!" Wolf shook his shoulder more forcefully this time, though not so much so as to cause him pain. This time he was successful in pulling Alex from wherever it was he had gone to.

Alex gasped, meeting Wolf's concerned eyes for only a moment before looking down at the thin sheet that covered him. He shivered as the last stains of the memory faded back into the recesses of his mind. _Tom… _

"Alex?" Wolf spoke quietly. He knew he shouldn't press the issue anymore for the moment, no matter how curious he was now about the people mentioned. Alex came before his curiosity, and right now Alex needed to rest – something he couldn't do if Wolf was pushing him over the edge. "Are you cold?"

"I –." Alex cut off abruptly mid-sentence, not expecting the question he had been asked. He swallowed visibly before barely nodding. Cold was an understatement; unfortunately, no one could fix the frozen feeling that had settled over his heart.

"I'll go get another blanket," the unit leader spoke quietly as he stood from his chair. He had only been gone for a couple of minutes, but, by the time he had returned, Alex had already fallen fast asleep.

* * *

_Alex stood in wait in the middle of the Putney Bridge. Glancing at his watch he noted the time: 11:58 PM – it wouldn't be much longer now. He looked up from the murky water of the River Thames as car headlights caught his attention out of the corner of his eye. He turned as it stopped a few yards away, and a man got out of the passenger side._

"_Alex Rider?" the man asked with a thick accent._

"_What do you want with me? Where is Tom?"_

_The man chuckled darkly. "All in good time, all in good time. We still need your cooperation, after all – we wouldn't be so stupid as to hand him over first. Tomorrow night, someone will email you from a secure address on a secure signal with the name of a warehouse and a time of meeting. You will come alone or your friend will be dead before you even get to the door. Harris will be there; you give us what we want, we'll let your friend go."_

"_What do you need me to do?" Alex asked, resigned to his fate._

_The man grinned, an evil, twisted smirk. "It is simple really. All we want from you is a little information. The names and addresses of the heads of MI6, all security measures in place to protect them, all security measures in place to keep unwanted persons out of HQ, secret entrances into HQ, the top agents, and anything else along those lines that we might useful."_

"_You're mad," Alex ground out from between clenched teeth._

"_Maybe so," the man responded. "But it is not _my_ friend's life that is at stake right now."_

_Alex visibly sagged as the man turned around, laughing, and got back in the car. As it pulled away, Alex was left alone, once again wondering if all of this was worth living for._

_Two days later found the teen approaching an old warehouse that hadn't been used in years. He pulled open the door and entered only to find it empty – though it wouldn't remain so. He made his way to the center of the great, open space and waited – just as he had been instructed. After a moment, three figures seemed to melt out of the shadows. The man who had met him on the bridge was sauntering out beside another man who was practically dragging Tom along in a head lock._

"_You have brought the information?" Alex nodded. "Good," the man whom Alex hasn't met before continued. "Just hand it to my assistant, and all of this will be over."_

Alex cried out in his sleep, already knowing what was coming. The three members of K-Unit looked up in surprise to suddenly notice that the teen they had thought was sleeping peacefully was pale and covered in a thin sheen of sweat. Snake cautiously approached the teen and shook his shoulder gently to rouse him. "Alex? C'mon, kiddo, wake up…"

"_And now, Alex, for the final part of the deal: Give yourself up, and we'll let Harris go."_

"_That wasn't part of the deal!" Alex exclaimed. "You said if I give you that information then we could both leave."_

"_I didn't mention this?" the man asked in faked surprise. "Well, guess what! It doesn't matter what I said or didn't say; you will either come with us, or your friend pays the price."_

_Alex drew out the gun he had concealed beneath his shirt. "I don't think so. You'll let us go or _you _will be the one to pay the price!"_

"_I'm afraid that's not how this works, Alex."_

Snake was growing desperate. "Alex! Please! Come on! Just wake up, kiddo! It's okay; you're safe! Just wake up!" But nothing the medic could do was working; Alex still lay tortured by his dreams.

_Across the warehouse, the man smiled evilly. "Say goodbye to your friend, Rider."_

_Alex watched in horror as the man fired the gun and his best – his _only _– friend crumpled to the ground, dead. "NO! TOM!"_

"_That's what you get, Rider," the man chuckled, "for double-crossing us."_

_Alex could hardly breathe, his chest constricted with guilt and sorrow. Somehow he managed to blurt out, "What are you talking about? I gave you what you asked for!"_

_The man scoffed. "You really think we're that stupid here? I know fake information when I see it. You made it all up just so you could get your friend back without compromising your country. Fool! And now you're friend has paid the price. …But I won't do anything to you, Alex Rider – at least, not yet. But, rest assured, we aren't through with you yet!"_

Alex jerked awake, sitting up far too fast for his own good, the world tilting dangerously around him. Strong arms caught him and pulled him close as two other blurry figures stood in front and to the side of him. This time though, it wasn't his uncle trying to calm him down.

"Hush, Cub. It's all right now; it's over. You're still in the hospital; you're safe, I promise. It's all right. Deep breaths now… That's it."

Alex closed his eyes again briefly, swallowing hard to force down the bile that threatened to rise. As he opened his eyes again, he felt something warm and wet slide down his cheeks – the reason his vision was blurry he realized with a start. He brought a shaking hand up to this face to wipe the tears away, at the same time forcing himself to take deep breaths. He knew he needed to calm down; if he didn't they'd sedate him again, and, he had decided, once was more than enough.

When Alex's breathing had calmed some and Snake was sure the teen wasn't going to start hyperventilating, he lowered him back down onto his pillows. "Just take it easy," he continued to soothe in a low tone. "You're gonna be just fine…"

Alex closed his eyes again as a fresh onslaught of tears threatened to overwhelm him. 'Yeah,' he thought miserably, 'but Tom won't be…' Despite his best efforts, another unbidden tear forced its way between his tightly clamped eyelids. Before he could react, however, he felt a gentle hand brush it away. What was _wrong_ with him? He wondered. Tom was gone – _dead _– and he just needed to accept that! And yet the memory burned like fire in his mind, a constant reminder of another time he had failed to protect those who really, truly mattered to him.

"Cub?" Wolf asked gently. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Alex took a deep breath and sighed it back out, shaking his head, eyes still closed. He didn't even want to think about it, much less talk about it! He just wanted all of this to be over – or better yet, to have never happened.

The unit leader placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "Okay. But it you ever do, we're here for you."

Alex nodded minutely all the while thinking, 'Not a chance…' He wouldn't allow himself to get so close to them that they would ever know something so personal. If he did… Well, everyone else had died… It was a curse, he reasoned, a curse that came with getting too close to him. He vaguely wondered if the same had been true with his father. Or maybe it hadn't been… After all, his parents had been killed after he had been born. Maybe it was just him who was so unlucky…

It would always be his fault, he reasoned. Always.

* * *

_1:50 PM, Later That Same Day_

Alex, who was once again awake, was talking animated with Eagle, the only other sports enthusiast in the room, about football when Dr. Nuverth entered the room, pushing a wheelchair in front of him.

"Ah! Alex, it's good to see you awake!" he spoke, effectively interrupting all conversations in the room at the same time. "I'm glad, because, otherwise, I would have just had to wake you up anyway. So much easier this way, isn't it?"

"May I ask why you would have had to wake him up?" Snake asked suspiciously, raising his eyebrow.

"Ah, yes, of course. His doctor has ordered a few tests, is all. Nothing to worry about, really, but I'm afraid I have to take him elsewhere for them, and the three of you have to stay here. Those are my orders, so don't even bother arguing with me."

The hair on the back of Wolf's neck prickled. He wasn't sure why, but something smelled fishy to him. "How long will the tests take?"

"An hour or two at most." Dr. Nuverth shrugged casually. "Depends if they get backed up."

Wolf nodded. That seemed normal enough to him. And yet… The unit leader couldn't shake this sense of foreboding. Something just seemed _off; _maybe it was because they hadn't been told about any tests this time, and normally they were informed a day or two ahead of time.

"The other doctor didn't say anything about it," Alex pointed out, crossing his arms. Evidently, he wasn't taking this at face-value, either – but then again, him being a spy was, alone, a good reason to be leery. And, Wolf was sure, Alex just probably didn't like the idea of more tests in general, anyway, considering how much he'd already been poked and prodded since waking up. "He always tells us days in advance."

"He didn't tell you?" Dr. Nuverth asked in surprise. "Well, perhaps it slipped his mind… He told me, anyway, and it is right here on your chart. Besides, these are important; we wouldn't want to have the hassle of rescheduling, would we?"

Alex shifted uncomfortably, as Snake inspected his chart. "I guess not…"

"Good! Now then, if one of you would be so kind as to assist me…"

Snake stepped forward, setting the chart down, all the while shooting Alex a look that said he didn't have to go if he didn't want to. As they gently transferred him from the bed to the wheelchair, Alex returned with one that clearly stated he could take care of himself and that he would go. "We'll see you in a couple of hours," Snake stated in a tone that spoke more than that. Alex easily picked up the message: _If you're not back in exactly two hours or less, we will tear apart the entire hospital until we find you._

Alex nodded in thanks as the doctor wheeled him out into the corridor. As they stopped in front of an elevator at the far end of the hallway, Dr. Nuverth hitting the down arrow, Alex frowned. When being taken for tests previously, they had used the other one. "Isn't this the one that goes down to the ER?"

"Yes, it is; it's faster to go this way."

Not knowing the layout of the hospital very well or the tests he was supposedly having, all Alex could do was shrug and say, "Oh."

The ride down was a silent affair, neither really knowing what to say to the other. But when he was suddenly being wheeled towards the doors near the ambulance bay, Alex knew something was wrong. "Hey! This is can't be the right way! What are you doing? Where are you taking me?" Though he knew he wouldn't get any answers, he _was_ hoping to make enough of a commotion to draw attention. Unfortunately, the staff who did notice didn't seem to pay any mind, as if this were normal.

"Never mind that. Just shut up, and you won't get hurt."

Alex forced down the panic that threatened to take over his senses. If he let that happen, he wouldn't be able to make an escape… But would he be able to anyway? He was still healing from his injuries… But his instincts wouldn't let him just sit there to be stolen away by – whoever this man really was. He had to move fast, he knew; with each passing second, he was getting closer and closer to the door. Yes! There was an adjacent hallway up ahead still. If he could just get away down it… Summoning all of his strength and spurred on by adrenaline, he prepared to jump. In five… four… three… two… one…

He sprung from the wheelchair and rolled for a moment before springing to his feet and taking off down the corridor as quickly as he could. Now was certainly one of those moments Alex was grateful that adrenaline helped to mask pain; if it didn't, he was positive he would have been unconscious on the floor the second he had hit it. He hadn't gone more than 100 meters before he could feel his breathing hitching from the pain. 'Not good!' his mind screamed at him. 'You have to find somewhere to hide before you pass out!' With that thought in mind, Alex quickly ducked into a room, thankfully finding it empty so he wouldn't have to try to explain himself only to be turned back over to Mr. Evil. The room started to swim as he stopped to search for a place to hide. Not finding one, he turned for the connected bathroom. It was his only chance. He ducked inside quickly only to find no better place to hide than in the main room. He returned to the main room and ducked behind one of the two beds, preparing to fight.

A split second later, the door crashed open. Alex braced himself for what he knew was coming. He had to take this man out fast because he wouldn't last long in hand-to-hand combat – which he hoped it would be. If this guy had a gun, he was already done for. He gripped the leg of the movable tray table beside. Maybe he could use it as a weapon of some kind…

"Come out, come out wherever you are," he could hear the man taunt him. "There's nowhere to run, so you might as well just make it easy for the both of us."

Alex held his breath as he saw the feet of his enemy approaching him. They stopped at the end of the bed he was hiding behind.

"Well, well, well," the man continued taunting. "What an excellent hiding place!"

Alex stiffened, looking up into the smiling, ruthless face of his soon-to-be captor. Tapping into the last reserves of his strength, he swung the tray table around, hitting his mark exactly where he intended. With an 'Oomph!' the man doubled over, gasping for air. Alex took advantage of the situation and bolted for the door.

But he wasn't going to make it, he suddenly realized as the floor rushed up to meet him. As he hit the floor, he turned back to see his hindrance: Even in his winded state, 'Dr. Nuverth' had managed to grab hold of Alex's ankle to prevent his escape. Alex lashed out with his free foot, catching the man square in the mouth. The grip slackened, and Alex scrambled back up and sprinted out the door once again. He had to find help – and _soon _– before he collapsed. That would just figure, he thought wryly, if he managed to get away and evade recapture only to be caught because he couldn't stay on his feet long enough to find someone to help him. He turned a corner and ran smack into another doctor, falling to the floor.

The doctor stared at him in wonderment as the teen lay panting on the floor. After a second of silence, he finally asked in Spanish, _"Is there something I can do for you, young man_?"

Alex, only now comprehending what he had run into, managed to gasp out an answer. "_Help! I'm being kidnapped! I –!"_

He had wanted to say more, but 'Dr. Nuverth' chose that moment to turn the same corner. "_Alex! There you are!"_ he spoke in feigned worry. _"I'm terribly sorry for any trouble he has caused, good sir. He's a little nervous about some tests, is all. I've been chasing him half way around this hospital."_

The other doctor laughed. "_I see!" _He turned to Alex, offering a hand to help him up. "_There is nothing to be afraid of, young man! They aren't so bad!"_

"_No! Listen to me! He's trying to KIDNAP me!" _he started, still lying on the ground, refusing the doctor's hand. "_Please, just listen to me!"_

Dr. Nuverth sighed, pulling a wheelchair from a side hall. "_Now, Alex. That's enough of that! Get up off that floor, sit down, and for heaven's sake, calm down!"_

Alex decided to change tactics since it was obvious the doctor he had run into didn't believe him. Instead, he reached up and grabbed hold of the doctor's still-outstretched hand. When he had been pulled to his feet, he used the momentum to flip the doctor over his shoulder and right into Dr. Nuverth. This, he instantly realized, had been a horrible idea. He gasped in pain, black spots exploding in front of his eyes. Feeling sick to his stomach, he doubled over on the ground, breathing heavily. He didn't know how long he stayed like that, but it certainly took less time for the doctors to recover than it did for him.

The only thing he could comprehend through the pain and nausea was a hand clamping itself firmly on his shoulder and the prick of a needle in his neck before everything went completely black.

* * *

_"So here you are, two steps ahead and staying on guard_  
_Every lesson forms a new scar_  
_They never thought you'd make it this far_  
_But turn around (turn around), oh they've surrounded you_  
_It's a showdown (showdown) and nobody comes to save you now_  
_But you've got something they don't_  
_Yeah you've got something they don't_  
_You've just gotta keep your eyes open"_

_~Taylor Swift: Eyes Open_

* * *

**A/N: **Several of you have wondered where Ben is during all of this. Don't worry; he'll be back next chapter. =) (He was actually supposed to be back this chapter, but I added some stuff that wasn't originally planned so the chapter would have been, like, twice this length had I left it in...)

_Note:_ Alex's dream and flashback are incomplete, so please don't ask about them. The flashback is obviously more complete the dream. For the dream, I left out the part that is in a previous chapter, for example. Plus, some things you can't know yet, or it might spoil the plot. ;)

_Challenges:  
- _What is the significance of the title, _Battlefield?_  
- Why doesn't anyone try to help Alex when he is making a commotion in the ER?  
- How will K-Unit react to finding out that Alex is, once again, missing?

As always, Review = Preview. =)


	11. Chapter 10 Round and Round

**Disclaimer: **Totally not mine. Obviously.

**A/N: **Finally, after getting stuck for days on end in one spot and for several hours in yet another, we have this chapter. You'd better enjoy it for all the trouble I went threw. ;)

As always, a special thanks to reviewers, though there were quite a few less this time around. I think the anon. reviewers who usually leave me one must have fallen off the face of the earth...? Ah, well... I did have one guest who reviewed every chapter. =) And of course my usual signed-in reviewers (along with a couple of _not_ usual signed-ins)... I love you guys! =)

_Italics,_ as always, are Spanish and dreams/memories/flashbacks.

* * *

_"There's one who takes it all_  
_And there's one who takes the fall_  
_One who never wins_  
_And there's one who stands again_  
_There's one who lives in pain_  
_And there's one who has no shame_  
_There's one to tell the lies_  
_And one to make the alibis_

_"Round and round and round and round we go_  
_Where we're gonna stop nobody knows_  
_Something's wrong, I feel it in my soul_  
_Round and round and round and round we go"_

_~Three Doors Down: Round and Round_

* * *

**Chapter Ten – Round and Round**

_2:39 PM, Local Time – Rio Gallegos Internacional Airport_

Nuverth shifted the car into park just outside the gate that separated the roadway from the runway. Climbing out, he approached the guard shack next to a service entrance gate.

"_Yes?" _the burly guard asked in an annoyed tone.

Nuverth leaned casually against the side of the building next to the window, waving an American hundred-dollar bill under his nose. "_How would you like two or maybe three of these?"_ The guard raised an eyebrow. "_All you have to do is let me drive through the gate, and it's yours."_

The guard glanced around him, but no one else was in sight. He grinned. "_You've got yourself a deal!"_

Nuverth smiled. "_I will hand them to you threw the window of my car as I pass." _With that, he turned, went back to the car, and drove towards the gate. Just as promised, the gate opened as he approached. Just as promised, Nuverth handed over three one-hundred-dollar bills as he passed through. Better to not draw attention to illegal doings if one could help it by paying off with plenty of money – that had always been Nuverth's thinking, and it had always paid off.

He drove along the service road for a minute before stopping next to a private jet sitting on the runway, preparing for take-off. He shifted the gear into park once again and stepped out of the car. At the same moment, a man descended the steps leading into the plane.

"Well done, doctor!"

"It was my pleasure, Monsieur Bouchard," Nuverth responded. "Anything to assist The Amara."

"Did you have any trouble then?"

"A little, but it was nothing that I was not able to handle. He is, as you requested, unharmed, but I had to sedate him. He was causing an awful ruckus, as you suspected might happen, and was beginning to draw attention from those I had not paid to look the other direction. Thankfully, those whom I hadn't paid didn't believe a word he said. You still have about an hour and half before those SAS men even begin to get suspicious, by the way. Good luck, good sir, and don't hesitate to call on me should The Amara be of need."

"Kaul and I shall keep that in mind, good doctor. Now, if you wouldn't mind helping me load him?"

"Ah! Of course!"

Ten minutes later, with Alex in tow, the jet taxied down the runway, taking off for the perfect blue skies above.

* * *

_3:09 PM, Local Time – Hospital Regional de Rio Gallegos_

Snake glanced at the clock on the wall. Alex had only been gone for a little over an hour, but the medic was already starting to worry. The feeling only intensified when the primary doctor walked into the room, the smile instantly falling from his face with his question.

"_Where is Alex?"_

The three members of K-Unit paled significantly. "_What?" _Wolf finally managed to ask. _"You should know… That Dr. Nuverth guy came, saying you had ordered some tests. It's on his freaking chart with your signature!"_

"_I did no such thing!" _the doctor stated in alarm._ "How long ago was this?"_

"_Over an hour ago," _Snake supplied, worry clenching tightly in his chest. Ben was going to kill them when he found out they had discovered Alex alive only to let the enemy get hold of him again. That was one conversation he wouldn't be looking forward to having with his old friend.

The doctor exited the room, crossing to the nurse's station in less than ten strides, picked up the receiver, and began to talk rapidly in Spanish, calling for security to search the building and for police to secure the city. No one was to leave until he gave the okay.

But they all knew that this could potentially be in vain – it was more than likely futile, in fact. An hour was more than enough time to take Alex and get him out of the city. Heck, the airport was only fifteen minutes away, Wolf mused uneasily; it wouldn't be difficult to shove him on a private plane, leaving with plenty of time to have gotten far, far away from Rio Gallegos. They could be headed anywhere in the world right now…

Eagle stood up abruptly. "We need to tell Ben," he stated. "He needs to know…"

"And how do you propose we get hold of him?" Wolf asked pointedly. "We've been trying since we got here."

"He still deserves to know," Eagle sighed. "I'm going to try again." He walked out of the room.

Wolf scoffed. "And what good is that going to do?" he muttered.

"Actually," Snake mused, "I've been thinking. When we first found Alex, the first person he guessed us to be was Ben. And remember when Ben told us that Cub was dead? The two of them obviously have a connection to each other that goes deeper than just the time at Beacons for Ben to have known that Alex was dead and for them to have reacted the way they did in their respective situations. Alex has been 'working' for MI6…"

Wolf raised an eyebrow. "You think Ben works for MI6? How? Somehow I don't think Military Intelligence would want someone who got binned!"

"What if he didn't get binned, Wolf? What if they recruited him, and that was just the cover story? Truthfully, it does seem unlikely, but so does the use of a teenager. If he works for MI6, he might be able to help find Alex since we now know he's alive. And since we know all of this is connected to The Amara – a _terrorist_ organization, they probably have far more information than we do. Eagle is right; somehow we need to get in touch with Ben."

* * *

_12:13 AM, Local Time (8:13 PM, Argentina) – Royal and General Bank, London_

Ben ran a hand tiredly through his hair. All he wanted to do was go home and sleep; the paper work could _definitely _wait until tomorrow – or rather later today, he mused, since it was already after midnight. The elevator dinged, indicating he had finally reached the ground floor. As he stepped out and headed for the door, he felt his cell phone vibrate in his pocket. Groaning (and not really wanting to talk to anyone at all, especially at the current hour of morning), he grudgingly pulled the device out and glared at the caller ID, whishing he hadn't turned the blasted device back on after his debriefing. His eyebrows rose marginally as he read the screen. A hospital in _Argentina_? What in the world? !

"Ben Daniels," he sighed tiredly as he answered the call.

"Ben! Thank goodness! We've been trying to get hold of you for, like, a week and a half! Not to mention the past four hours…"

Ben almost smiled at his frantic friend. "It's good to hear from you, too, Micah. I was… preoccupied. Why were you trying to reach me?"

The line was silent for a moment, making Ben think that the signal had been lost – the call _was_ coming all the way from Argentina, after all. But then he answered. "Well, up until about ten minutes ago, we had good news for you. Now, we have very, very,_ very_ bad news for you."

Ben groaned. "Alright. Just get it over with."

"Well… It's a little complicated… You see, the good news was that Cub is alive."

"_What?"_ Ben stopped abruptly in his tracks, not two feet from the door, eyes wide in disbelief. "It's… It's not possible!"

"Yeah, that was our thoughts, too, but he is. See, he, uh, was kind of a prisoner of a terrorist group called The Amara. We were part of the group sent to shut down a compound, and, well, we kind of found him… alive."

Ben hardly knew what to think; he was absolutely elated! And yet, he had to wonder what had happened to Alex in the last nine months; he himself had been on several surveillance missions, collecting data on that very organization – they certainly didn't treat their prisoners like VIP's, that was for sure! …And then he remembered that his friend had said he had bad news, too. "Micah," he muttered. "You said you had bad news?"

"Yeah," the voice sighed. "See… Uhm… They kind of stole him back…" Ben paled. "See, he was pretty beat up when we found him as it was so he was taken to a hospital – in Argentina. That's where we are now… And, I guess, one of the doctors was on the enemy's side…"

Ben closed his eyes for a moment to compose himself. If Alex had been hospitalized, that meant it was _bad _– probably worse than what he had seen any time he had been in contact with the organization. And now he was back at their mercies. "Micah? I have to go; there's someone I have to speak with immediately about this. Is there a number I'll be able to call you back on?"

"Yeah. I'll give you the number for the nurse's station on this floor." After Ben had gotten the number from his friend and hung up, he spun around on his heel and headed back for the elevator. It looked like his sleep was going to have to wait.

* * *

_9:31 PM, Rio Gallegos Time (1:31 AM, London) – Somewhere over the Pacific Ocean_

Alex stirred, drawing Bouchard's attention away from the novel he had been engrossed in. He frowned, thinking about how much more he would rather just keep reading instead of answering the questions the boy was sure to have if he would be allowed to wake. Marking his place before setting the book down, he stood.

_Alex stepped through the door into the house the Pleasures owned in San Francisco, California. It was only just after 5:00 PM here, but back in London, it was already past midnight. He rubbed his eyes wearily, only wanting to sleep but knowing he wouldn't be allowed to – Mr. Pleasure had already told him as much: "You'll never get used to the different time zone if we let you sleep according to London time!" He knew it was true, but that didn't make him want to sleep any less. He glanced up as he heard footsteps start down the staircase that was in front of him only to stop abruptly. A second later, he found himself wrapped in a familiar hug which he readily returned. "Good to see you, too, Sabina," he muttered with a small chuckle._

_She pulled away, a small smile crossing her face. "I'll show you up to your room."_

_Ten minutes later, everything that Alex had brought from London (which hadn't been much, really) was in his room, and he turned to unpacking. He paused in his movements, glancing up to the doorway where Sabina still stood, leaning against the door frame._

"_I'd offer to help," she began, "but I don't really know where you want anything… It really is good to see you, Alex. I'm glad you came."_

_Alex stared at her for a moment before shrugging and turning back to the open box. "I didn't have anywhere else to go… Believe me, I was glad for the offer." He sighed. "I missed you, you know. It's nice to know that I don't have to hide anything anymore, since you already know…"_

"_You'll have a new start here, too, Alex. You can finally go back to being normal without _them _breathing down your neck every second. You'll like it here, I'm sure. It's not London, but San Francisco is great in its own way." She moved into his room and sat in the chair next to his desk. "We're here for you, Alex. You know you can talk to us about anything, right?"_

_He nodded. "I'd rather just forget about it, to be honest. But thank you." Talking about the events of the last couple of years was the _last _thing he intended to do. No one needed to share in the horrors that plagued his mind every waking moment, only intensifying at night._

_Sabina sighed quietly. "Just… promise me you won't try to do everything on your own anymore."_

_Alex sighed, stopping the process of unpacking once again. "I can't do that, and you know it… Every time someone else gets involved, it ends badly."_

"_I'm not talking about a mission, Alex. I'm talking about _life._ You're not alone anymore, so please don't act like you are. We're here to help, Alex. Please don't push us away…"_

_He closed his eyes briefly, clenching his teeth. "I don't think you want to know," he slowly whispered, "what goes on in my mind, Sab. It's not pretty."_

"_I don't care. I just want you to get back to being the Alex I first met. Please."_

_He rubbed his hand wearily over the back of his neck. Maybe… Maybe it would help, he thought, to get it out in the open. With a sigh, he relented. "It's a dark place, filled with blood and pain, death and betrayal. Darkness so complete you forget how to even imagine light exists. You want it to end, but you know there is no way out, so you stumble around, looking for any sign that there is a way out even though you already know… You know… And eventually you accept it and fall to your knees and let it swallow you whole. It pulls you under, smothers you until you can't breathe, chokes you until you think you'll die, but you still don't – oh, no; death would be too easy, and there is no easy way out. In fact, there is no way out at all. You try and try, but you never succeed, and you never will succeed. There is no way out; you're simply _trapped_ so completely that you know you have no hope for a future. Trapped in the dark forever… Alone forever… Wondering if your pitiful existence is really worth living or if you're even really living anymore and not just an empty shell, destined to walk the earth forever… Always alone… No one left to come rescue you from yourself…"_

"_Alex…"_

_Alex glanced up, meeting her tear-laden gaze with dead eyes, before quickly looking away again. "You asked… I warned you…"_

"_Alex… You're not alone anymore! You don't have to stay lost in the dark…"_

Bouchard stuck the needle into the slowly waking teen. 'There,' he thought as the teen stilled and ebbed back away from consciousness. 'Now I can go back to enjoying my novel in peace.'

"_That's where you're wrong, Sab. That darkness resides in my mind – it has taken over, and there is nothing left except darkness. There is nothing you can do, Sab; there is nothing anyone can do now."_

* * *

_1:48 AM, Local Time (9:48, Argentina) – Royal and General Bank, London_

"I don't understand why you won't reopen this file," Ben accused bitterly. "We were never one hundred percent sure he was dead in the first place! Now we have proof that he's still alive, Mrs. Jones; surely that should mean something to you! It's obvious that The Amara still has need of him, so, since they haven't killed him yet, then they probably aren't going to – for some reason or other, they need him _alive_. We can still get him back –."

"I understand your concern, Agent Daniels, but the same problem remains that we encountered before: We don't know where they took him," the head responded calmly.

"But we have locations under –."

"No more that have been verified thus far, and there are far too many possible locations to simply search every one of them."

"Which ones are the most likely?"

Mrs. Jones sighed. "You won't give up on this, will you?"

"Not while there is a _minor _involved!"

"Technically, Alex isn't a minor anymore; he's past his eighteenth birthday now."

"That's beside the point – he never should have been involved in the first place! Are you going to help me or not? What are the most likely locations?"

"No, Agent Daniels, I am not going to help you in your wild goose chase. Besides, you don't have a high enough level of clearance for the information you seek."

Ben growled, clearly fed-up with the situation. "Have you no _conscious_, Mrs. Jones? I wish Blunt hadn't recommended you for his replacement; at least as the deputy-head you had at least a little bit of concern for him. Maybe I should start calling you Mrs. _Blunt _since you're just as horrid to Alex as your predecessor!"

Though she would never show it, Ben's words had cut deeply. When she had taken this office, she had sworn to herself that she would not become like Alan Blunt. And yet, she couldn't help but admit that maybe she had… With a sigh, she opened a drawer on her desk and pulled out a manila folder with 'Top Secret: Level Two Clearance' stamped in red ink on the top. Flipping it open, she started to speak again. "You realize I could lose my job for this, Ben."

He nodded. "I won't say a word."

"There are quite a few that we are positive house Amara strongholds. Many of them are in the process of being shut down or, at least, have an agent on the inside working to collapse it in on itself. However, there are a number of locations that are still in question. It would seem that The Amara is very wide spread, as a matter of fact, the world over. Confirmed locations include Japan, Russia, the Republic of the Congo, Egypt, Brazil, Mexico… Even one compound in the state Alaska. And those are just _some_ of the ones we have confirmed. The most likely locations that are under suspicion at this point are also numerous and wide-spread…"

"What about the locations that you're sure of? You're certain Alex isn't in any of those?"

"Well, many of them have already been shut down. But, even then… The agents we sent in were cleared to know that there was a certain teen we were keeping our eyes out for – they were not told the 'why,' only the 'who,' and given a description, of course – just in case his disappearance was somehow connected."

"And now we know it was…"

Jones nodded. "Yes, unfortunately. But, until now, no one had seen him, obviously."

Ben sighed. "What about those suspected locations?"

"We aren't for sure, Ben; most of them are only guesses, I'm afraid. Such terrorist countries, like those of the Middle East, for example. We really have no other reason to suspect them other than the fact that they are known for terrorism. But others have had some… suspicious goings-on. The ones with the highest suspicion right now are Chile, Peru, Italy, Kenya, Mali, and the island of Tasmania off the coast of Australia. But, as I said, there is not much to go off of at the moment, even for those. I don't know where you'd even begin to start, Ben."

Ben rubbed a hand tiredly over his eyes. "I don't either. But what I _do _know is that we have to get Alex out of there. Micah told me that he was in bad shape when they found him, and from what I have personally witnessed, they don't hesitate to dole out punishment – or, rather, torture. I don't know what all they've done to him, but we have to get him out before they manage to do any more damage."

"What do you propose, Ben? We simply don't have the manpower to investigate every potential location all at the same time in hopes of finding him. And what if they took him somewhere that we don't suspect?" She sighed. "I'm afraid there is still nothing we can do."

Ben stood up and turned to leave. "There has to be. I'll let you know when I come up with something feasible."

* * *

_1:03 AM, Local Time (12:03 PM, London, the following day) – Bora Bora Island, South Pacific Ocean_

"_Sab, _please_ just listen!" Alex begged, grabbing her arm to hinder her escape._

"_No! I'm not just going to sit here while you throw your life away! I care about you too much for that!"_

"_If you would just listen, you would know that it's not like that!" His voice fell, his grip slackening. "See? You don't understand. No one does. You said you would listen to me, but you don't – not really, anyway. Fine, tell your parents; lot of good it'll do."_

Alex forcefully pushed the memory to the back of his mind as consciousness slowly found its way back to him. At first, he thought he was still in the hospital, that someone had intervened at the last moment. He could feel soft sheets under him, a light blanket over him as well – but he quickly realized they were not the same as the ones in his room at the hospital. They were softer, more like the ones back at his uncle's old house in Chelsea. But he wasn't back there, either; he could hear waves coming through an open window on the breeze, instead the familiar sounds of city traffic. He could smell salt in the air – an indication that he was near the ocean. And the whir of medical machines was painfully absent. Alex had never thought he would find himself wishing to be in a hospital, but that option was becoming more and more pleasant as he pieced together what had happened and where he must be now.

Yet, his only theory didn't really fit. He knew that Nuverth must be on the side of The Amara, and that someone must have taken him back to someone within the organization. But he was obviously on some tropical island now, judging from the warm breeze that caressed his face every now and again. He was also lying supine on a comfortable bed instead of on the cold floor of some musty cell. Wherever he was at now was the complete opposite of the place he had been held before. The pieces just didn't fit together in his mind.

He slowly opened his eyes, blinking several times to adjust them to the dim light of the room. As he glanced around the small-but-pleasant room, he saw a man sitting in a chair near the open window in the opposite corner from his bed. As he watched, the man rose, took a few steps towards the door, and flicked on the light. He clenched his eyes shut for a moment against the sudden, bright light, before slowly opening them again. With a gasp, Alex recognized the man and his cruel smirk.

Damien Bouchard chuckled darkly. "Welcome back, Alex. Glad to see me?"

* * *

**A/N: **Mwahahaha! *Evil Grin* Perfect stopping place, right?

Not much for _Challenges _this time, but:  
- What plan is Ben going to come up with to help Alex?  
- Will K-Unit still be involved or is this the last that we'll see now that Alex is out of their hands and Ben knows?  
- What does Bouchard have in store for Alex this time?

Review = Preview (Not to mention a very happy author! =))


	12. Chapter 11 Needle in a Haystack

**Disclaimer: **Only in my dreams...

**A/N: **Wow. Not gonna lie, little bit disappointed with reviews - or rather the lack thereof. I don't like begging for them, so I'm not gonna start now. BUT: I know everyone says this, but reviews seriously inspire me. I get ONE review and I'm like "AHH! Gotta work on the next chapter!" That's why chapters came so quickly for a while - because people where reviewing like crazy! It seriously warmed my heart to know that I was writing something worth reading. So everyone reading who didn't review, you owe five people for this chapter because I pulled this out because of them: Mythomagic-Champion, ElodieKumari94, Blissful Winter, Tissa96, and CoolerThanThouArt (reviewing via PM).

So, just so you know, I'm not as happy with this chapter as normal... And it's shorter.

**On a happier note, **I keep forgetting to bring this up, so I'll mention it now. I changed the summary some chapters ago; do you like the new one or the old one better?

* * *

**Chapter Eleven – Needle in a Haystack**

_11:03 AM, Local Time, Two Days Later – Royal and General Bank, London_

Ben rubbed wearily at his eyes, desperately trying to stay awake. He had been running on very little sleep for almost three weeks now, making it that much harder to focus on the task at hand. "There has to be something or someone we missed…"

"We questioned everyone, Ben," Snake stated, equally as weary. "Hospital personnel, airport security… Either they were all paid off in advance, or they're all just really, really stupid and unobservant. And I'm willing to bet it's not the latter. The Amara are pulling all the strings right now; they seem to know how everything will play out, and it always goes the way they want it. The situation doesn't look good for Alex right now, I'm afraid."

"And just like that," Ben muttered, "the trail is cold, once again…"

"I'm sorry, Ben," Wolf sighed. "We never should have let him out of our sights."

The spy shook his head. "You couldn't have known what was going to happen. Let's just focus on getting him out of there."

"How do we do that when we don't know where he is or even where to start looking?" Eagle asked in frustration.

"I don't know, Micah," Ben sighed. "All I know is that we can't just leave him there. Too many people have let him down, deserted him when he needed them most. I won't be one of those people."

"Well," Mrs. Jones finally added to the conversation, "let's go over all the information we have on The Amara again. It's always possible that we missed something; besides, it's all we've got…"

* * *

_7:15 AM, Local Time (6:15 PM, London) – Bora Bora Island, South Pacific_

Alex stood, staring out the small window of his room as the waves crashed on the sand a short distance away, a light breeze ruffling his hair. He was glad for the change of scenery from the cell he had been in before, that was for sure, but he certainly wished that the window was just a little bit bigger and not above a jagged, rock-lined shore. If not for those two hindrances, he could be half way back to London by now. Maybe all the way back, safe and sound, depending on just where in the world he had ended up – he still wasn't sure as no one had been kind enough to tell him.

In fact, he hadn't seen anyone since Bouchard left only minutes after he had woken up in this strange place with the ever-cheery words of "Welcome to the central offices." His stomach clenched tightly at the reminder that it had been at least two days since he'd had anything to eat. Had he been more naïve, he would have thought that they had simply forgotten his presence. But, no; he knew what they were really up to. Bouchard had battered him around enough physically with no success at breaking him, so they (whoever 'they' was, he still didn't know that, either) were changing tactics. Starving him and leaving him isolated – psychological torture now, more than physical. But he wouldn't break; MI6 knew he was alive again by now, surely.

_But would it matter? _a small voice in the back of his mind whispered. _They knew before, and no one came – in fact, they thought you were dead. K-Unit was an accident. Will anyone come this time either? After all, why bother? You're a liability to MI6; you're better off –._

Alex quickly squelched that train of thought. He wouldn't allow himself to go back to that dark place again… And yet, he couldn't help but think he was only fooling himself; after all, had he ever really _left _that dark place? Not really, his mind supplied; he could never be free from it, after all. He had allowed it to consume him, and there was no going back.

"_You've changed, Alex," James whispered, eyes narrowed, repulsed. "Since when have you gone so… so… This isn't like you, Alex."_

"_Really?" Alex answered, countenance void of emotion. "You really think you know me? Well, I've got news for you, then. You don't know anything!"_

_James took a hesitant step backwards. "No. I guess I don't. And if this is the real you, Alex, I'm not sure I want to, either. I'm sorry, Alex, but I can't keep doing this. I can't keep trying to stick up for you when I don't even know who you are anymore. I'm sorry…" He spun around and walked away, turned the corner of the now-empty school hallway, and was gone from his life forever._

Alex tried to shake the memory from his head. After Tom's death, he had completely closed himself off to everyone, resulting in everyone – one by one – walking away. Before long, he had chased away the remnants of his classmates still willing to try to interact with him, leaving him completely alone. He hadn't even really realized it was happening until James – the last person to remain, someone he had once counted as a friend – had turned his back and left. In the end, he had been glad for it – no one else he cared about could die or betray him if he didn't have anyone left to care about.

Suddenly very weary, he sat in the wooden chair next to the window with a very ungraceful plop. Would this ever end? This continued run from everything he had never wanted to be involved in in the first place? No, of course it wouldn't; he had too many enemies, too many people who wanted to use him for their own devious schemes. The instant he had accepted the Stormbreaker mission, he had sealed his fate, turned the key in the lock that could never be undone again. He was a prisoner of a world he had never wanted to be a part of in the first place.

He would never be free.

* * *

_6:17 PM, Local Time – Ben's Flat in Greenwich, London_

"Micah, please stop pacing; you're starting to give me a headache."

"Sorry, Scott, but you know I think better when I pace… Go take something; you're a medic after all – surely you know how to cure a headache."

"Just tell me your pacing as gotten you somewhere, and I'll be plenty happy," Snake sighed.

Eagle stopped. "Maybe. I'm not really sure yet. Where did 'Dr. Nuverth' say he was from again?"

"The Falklands Islands."

"Maybe they took Cub there?"

"Doubtful. You forget who we're up against; he wouldn't tell us something like that if he was going to go back there after kidnapping Alex."

Eagle was silent for a moment. "Maybe that's what he wants us to think!"

Snake groaned. "Not. Likely."

"What about Bouchard?" Eagle started pacing again.

"He's from France, and there is no record of him returning there. That's out."

"There's gotta be something, Scott. What are we missing?"

Snake glanced at his watch with a sigh. "I wish I knew. Unfortunately, we don't really have enough pieces of the puzzle to see the picture."

Eagle stopped, giving a snap with his fingers. "I've got it! When he first took Cub, they stopped in Dakar, Senegal, to refuel! How about –."

"Nope," Snake cut in. "They already checked it out. Where were you when we had _that_ discussion with Jones?"

"Hm. No idea, to be honest," he answered with a frown. "Ya know, they really could be anywhere… If they really have followers in every country, then even the people MI6 talked to could be part of it. Heck, they could be hiding here in London and we wouldn't know it!" Eagle sat down with a frustrated sigh.

Snake couldn't help but crack a grin. "Somehow I don't think they'd be that stupid." His smirk faded, though, as he muttered, "But you do have a point… Or they could be using fake identities, too, for that matter, and we would have no way of knowing any different."

The two comrades sat in silence for a moment before the click of the front door alerted them to the returning presence of Ben and Wolf.

"'Bout time," Snake stated good-naturedly as he moved to stand in the doorway that connected the sitting room and the kitchen. "I thought you'd both left us here to starve."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Wolf grunted. "Unbelievably long line…"

"It wasn't _that _horrible, David," Ben muttered. He turned to Snake and Eagle. "Any luck?"

Snake snorted. "Yeah, right. That's a good joke, Ben. We have literally nothing to go on…"

He sighed. "I know… I guess I just keep hoping that one of us will think of something that was said or done to give us some kind of clue…"

"He's a survivor, Ben," Snake stated, placing a reassuring hand on his friend's shoulder. "He'll pull through until we can find him."

"He may have survived thus far," Ben responded, "but even the strongest can only last so long."

* * *

_10:52 PM, Local Time (9:52 AM, London) – Bora Bora Island_

Alex felt the hand that smacked him across the face before he saw it. The lights were off, and the shutters had been drawn on the window, making the other three men in the room virtually invisible to Alex. But he still knew the names of two of them, thanks to the words spoken. One of them was a guard, another was Bouchard, and the final shadowy figure was a man named Kaul. It was the last man who had been addressing him for the last couple of minutes and who had just backhanded him.

"I asked you a question, boy!" Kaul spat with a thick accent. "Answer it!"

Alex lifted his gaze to where he could see the other man's eyes glistening even in the dark of the room. "Why should I bother? You already know the answer. Do I really need to spell it out for you?"

"When will you get it threw that think skull of yours that they aren't coming for you, Rider? They don't care; you might as well just give in and give us the information we desire."

"Why? So you can kill me? I think I'll pass, thanks."

Kaul's eyes narrowed dangerously. "I think I'm starting to understand why my partner took to beating the tar out of you. You are really starting to annoy me."

Alex grinned. "That's what I'm here for."

"You realize I could kill you at any moment, you senseless child?"

"Go ahead. I'm not afraid to die. In fact, you'd be doing me a favor; I wouldn't have to put up with you lot anymore. But I don't think you will. You need me too much, don't you?"

Kaul smirked. "Actually, we don't." Alex stiffened. "But, really, this is quite fun. I'm finished with you for tonight, Rider, but I'll be back. "Rest assured, I'm not through with you yet!"

As he turned away, a cruel smirk still firmly in place, a cold chill ran down Alex's spine. He had heard those exact words somewhere else before… He shook the feeling of déjà vu off as the guard released the ropes that had restrained him to the chair; he had probably heard it countless times from countless people who wanted their revenge on him for some reason or other.

As he threw the shutters back from the window again, allowing a fresh breeze to stir the stale air inside, he took in a deep breath. Feeling rather childish, Alex sought out a star in the glowing heavens above. Closing his eyes, he made a wish – or perhaps, more of a prayer to whatever Divine Power might be listening.

_Please… Please make a way out for me…_

* * *

_10:03 AM, Local Time – Ben's Flat in Greenwich, London_

Eagle lay sprawled, taking up the entire sofa; Wolf sat, half asleep, in the armchair next to it. Ben and Snake were attempting to make a half-way decent, un-charred brunch. The four had been at it most of the night – _again _– only to come up with absolutely zero new leads. They had poured over countless news reports from practically every country in the world over the past several days, as well as numerous reports from other intelligence agencies the world over, only to be discouraged even further.

Alex was still nowhere to be found, and they had absolutely no idea where he could be.

Ben leaned against the doorframe of the sitting room. "Brunch is ready if the two of you can manage to move that far."

"Can't we just eat in here?"

"The last time I allowed that, Micah, I was cleaning stains out of the carpet. So, no."

"That was only because we were watching football…"

Ben rolled his eyes. "If you want food, you can move ten feet to the kitchen."

"Fine." Eagle rolled off the couch and shuffled into the kitchen behind Wolf, rubbing his eyes wearily.

Just as the four were sitting down, Ben's phone vibrated on the counter top across the room. He rose quickly to answer the call before it went to voice mail. Frowning, he read the name on the caller ID – Mum. He hit 'accept.' "Mrs. Jones. You have something new?" he asked hopefully.

"Yes, actually!" the voice answered. "One of our inside agents thinks he might have found Alex."

Ben's heart leapt into his throat. "Really?"

"He sent us a photo just few moments ago. It's very grainy, unfortunately, since it was taken from far away. I'm having one of Techs fix it up as we speak; he should be done very soon, and, as soon as he is, he will forward it to your phone. If it is Alex, call me immediately, and we'll set up a plan of action."

Ben could barely speak for the elation and relief he felt. "Will do." He ended the call, simultaneously turning back to the others. "We just might have a lead."

"What?"

"How?"

"Where?"

"I don't know yet," Ben answered all the one-word questions at once. "I –." He was interrupted as his phone buzzed again, this time with an incoming photo text message. He stared at the screen for a moment before opening the message. "We're about to see…"

* * *

_11:11 PM, Local Time (10:11 AM, London) – Bora Bora Island_

Alex had a plan. Not a very good one, mind you, but a plan none-the-less. It had come as a burst of inspiration, and, as crazy as it was, it just might work. But it could also backfire drastically. Then again, he reasoned, any plan he had ever come up with had more opportunity to go wrong than right. That was why he would just have to improvise, like he always did.

Taking a deep breath to steady himself, he knocked on the door. Just as he knew would happen, the little wooden slit in the door slid open followed by a gruff, "Yes?" from the guard stationed outside his door.

"I have need of the facilities," he responded as he had many times. He was honestly a little surprised he hadn't thought of this plan sooner. It was an oversight on The Amara's part really, placing him in a room with no toilet.

"Now?" the guard asked. "At this time of night?"

"Yes."

The guard grunted. "Fine. Give me a second."

Alex backed up from the door as he heard the guard insert a key with which to open the door. After a short moment, the door swung open, revealing the guard and a pair of silver, metal handcuffs.

"C'mon, turn around; you know the drill."

Alex started to turn, but, at the last second as the guard was bringing one cuff down onto his wrist, he lashed out with his foot, catching the man square in the gut, winding him. Ignoring the pain in his back as the stitches and still-healing wounds pulled and protested his movement, he located a pressure point in the guard's neck, rendering him unconscious before he could even blink. Alex grabbed the man's gun from its holster – checking first to make sure it was loaded – and, thinking they might come in handy, grabbed his keys as well, before darting out into the passage way.

Now was when he would have to improvise. He had only seen as much of the building as was between his room and the toilets, so he would have to make a guess at which way would lead him out. Not for the first time, he wished he had one of Smithers' instant-map-making gadgets – like the one he'd had back in France when this whole mess had started.

Noticing moonlight pouring in from a window, he decided that going right would be his best bet; as long as there was a window, that meant he was along the outer wall – the most likely place to find a door. As he turned the corner, he came upon a staircase leading downward. That was certainly a good sign since his room was not on the ground level of the building. He started down –

And instantly stopped, frozen, one foot on the first step as an alarm blared through the passage. _They had expected this, _he suddenly realized; they had been waiting for him to try to escape. So he did the only thing he could reasonably do under the circumstances.

Alex Rider ran.

* * *

_"If I stay it won't be long_  
_'Til I'm burning on the inside_  
_If I go I can only hope_  
_That I make it to the other side_  
_If you want to get out alive_  
_Whoa-oh, run for your life_  
_If you want to get out alive_  
_Whoa-oh, run for... [your life]"_

_~Three Days Grace: Get Out Alive_

* * *

**A/N: **_Challenges:_  
- Significance of the title, Needle in a Haystack?  
- Will the lead Ben and co. have result in anything?  
- Will Alex escape?

Preview = Preview

***NOTICE*:** Classes started for me today and already I have homework. I have the feeling that between work and class, I'm not going to have time to breathe, much less write. So if this isn't updated for awhile, that's why. (But we all know that I tend to procrastinate, so this notice may not actually carry an weight..."


	13. Chapter 12 Safegaurds

**Disclaimer: **All my witty remarks are being spent on my Scottish friend. Not mine.

**A/N: **Wow. Sorry. This was supposed to have been up, like, eight hours sooner... I was going to have it up before work but I couldn't decide on a song... Then I got distracted by my Scottish friend on facebook. (Actually still distracted by him, lol.)

Now you see why I like reviews and why you should. ;) I am satisfied with this chapter, and you're getting an update sooner. (Also found out what happened to my anons... They don't always have access to a computer... Thanks guys =)) That being said, thanks to everyone who reviewed! Even though classes started this past Monday for me, I've still managed to pull this out. =)

WARNING: Curse words. A 'd**n it' from an angry Wolf, and a couple of 's**ts' from a surprised-and-taken-off-gaurd Alex. Also, a suggested, slightly mature theme... You might miss it completely, but...

* * *

**Chapter Twelve – Safeguards**

_11:19 PM, Local Time – Bora Bora Island, South Pacific_

Alex jumped the last four steps down to the floor and surged forward despite the strain this stunt was placing on his damaged body. Up ahead of him, he could see tall, glass windows not unlike the ones seen on store fronts. A way out, maybe? He sure hoped so. As he entered the wider hall, he skidded to a halt.

No door.

He approached the windows, looking out. Perhaps he could hurl that potted plant in the corner threw one to _make _a door… His thought was abruptly cut short by the dagger-like, rocky coast on the other side of the window panes, the waves stirred up even more violently by the look of a distant-but-coming storm. Had there been sand not far below, he wouldn't have had to think to twice; as it was, the jagged precipice gave way to wild waves and more rocks standing up like the pointed ends of spears at least twenty meters below. Without another thought to escaping out the windows, he turned to his left, sprinting for a metal door at the other end. He tore it open.

"Well, well, well," Bouchard stated, smirking, as he blocked Alex's path, causing the teen to come to a screeching halt. "What have we here?"

Alex backed up into the hall of windows, Bouchard following with the same paced steps. A few meters in, Bouchard stopped while Alex continued backwards, placing enough distance between them to give him a better chance of making some kind of escape.

"If you were hoping to get away, think again." Bouchard drew his gun. A click echoed around the hall as the safety was released. "Give up and we'll just forget this little incident ever happened. Throw down that stolen weapon, and all of this will be over."

Alex was certainly smart enough to recognize when he didn't have a choice. No matter how quickly he could bring the gun around and fire, Bouchard would beat him to it. Slowly he pulled the weapon out of his waistband where he had stowed it, set it on the floor, and slid it over to where Bouchard was standing fifteen meters away.

Satisfied, Bouchard picked up the discarded weapon and clicked the safety of his own back in place, stowed both weapons, and sauntered over to the teen. "Did you really think you would be able to escape?" he scoffed, roughly grabbing one of Alex's wrists and twisting it painfully. "Did you really think we know so little about you that we could possibly underestimate you? Well, let me enlighten you then. We dedicated months prior to starting our operation just to researching _you._ Because, yes, you _are _that important to our success – or at least _you not interfering _is that important to us. You can't get away that easily!"

"Well, personally, I think that was a waste of time."

"What?"

"I never do the same thing twice, Bouchard. It keeps things interesting, for one thing; for another, your enemies can never predict you. Who says I really gave up because I thought I couldn't get away?"

"What are you getting at, Rider?"

"Oh, nothing at all. Just making my life more interesting, that's all. It's more fun to keep someone guessing your true intentions. But I guess you probably already knew that."

Before Bouchard could respond, Alex twisted his arm, wrenching his wrist free of the man's grasp, at the same time swinging his foot around, successfully sweeping Bouchard's feet out from under him. Bouchard landed on his back, slightly winded. Alex took the opportunity to reach for both of the guns now in Bouchard's possession. But, before he had managed to get a firm hold on them, Bouchard's hand shot out, knocking the weapons away, grabbing his wrist again. Standing up, he twisted Alex's arm around behind his back. The teen cried out as the motion pulled on his still-healing wounds, but he wasn't about to let this tyrant win. As he looked down at the floor, a plan formed. His right foot was positioned between Bouchard's feet…

"See? You cannot win, Little Alex. Just give up."

"Even with all your research, somehow you managed to overlook the most important thing about me: I don't give up." He picked up his right foot, slamming it down as hard as he could on the toes of Bouchard's left. Bouchard gasped in pain, momentarily letting his grip slacken enough for Alex to wrench his wrist free, whipping around to face his opponent. Positioned with the windows only half a meter or so behind him and Bouchard in front, he crouched slightly, preparing to defend himself.

Sure enough, as Bouchard turned, murder burning deep within his dark eyes, he came at Alex full force.

But Alex had been well prepared, both by his uncle and by the years of unofficial service to MI6. The move hadn't been intentional, really – he hadn't even had to think about it as instinct took over. Bouchard went for his chest; Alex grabbed his arm and flipped the man over his shoulder, using his own momentum against him. Only when the sound of breaking glass filled the room-like hall did Alex's mind truly register what he had just done.

But it was too late. He had sent Bouchard to a watery, bloody grave on the rocks and in the waves below the building.

Spinning around, Alex froze, wide-eyed, staring at the window as a breeze whipped around him. Yet another death on his hands. That it was that of a villain – someone who would have, undoubtedly, killed him eventually – didn't matter. It was still yet another death he was responsible for. _Damien Cray,_ a voice whispered, making him shake as the list continued. _Julia Rothman… Razim… Julius Grief… Hugo Grief, Desmond McCain, Yassen Gregorovich, Alexei Sarov, Winston Yu! All your fault! And what about all of the innocent? Tamara Knight, Rahim, Jack Starbright, Tom Harris! All your fault!_

Forcing himself to look away from the shattered window, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, forcing that ever-present voice away, reminding himself that he still had to get out of the building before he was caught again – he could punish himself later for this. Opening his eyes, he turned away from the window. But as he did so, a square, black object caught his attention out of the corner of his eye. Turning slightly and taking a few steps, he carefully picked it up as if he were afraid of the seemingly harmless device exploding. It didn't, of course, but Alex honestly wouldn't have been surprised if it had after all the exploding gadgets Smithers had supplied him with over the years.

This was simply too good to be true. And yet, it _was_ true. Before he had flung Bouchard out the window, his nemesis had dropped his cell phone. Alex tapped the touch screen, bringing the device to life. He sighed in frustration. Of course, it _had_ been too good to be true – the phone was locked, just as he had suspected might be the case. He crossed the room, device still in hand, to collect the weapons that had been deposited there during the fight. Finding them to be two different makes, he grabbed the one he was more familiar with – a 9mm Beretta – just in case. Shoving it into his waistband, he stood and headed back for the door he had found Bouchard behind only minutes before. As he made his way across the hall, he experimented with plausible passwords for the phone. As he reached the door, he entered the most obvious thing that couldn't possibly be the password – surely Bouchard wasn't that stupid, after all: operationww3.

As the door quietly clicked shut behind him, he stopped abruptly, stunned. He was in – that had really been the password! Lady Luck was certainly on his side, he mused to himself, but it certainly helped that Bouchard had mentioned to him how they were building the ultimate army and how they wanted to take out MI5 and MI6. When he had first been told that, his first thought had automatically been 'World War III.'

He smiled to himself as he started down the passage. Yes, luck was certainly on his side; who knew that Ben's insistence that Alex memorize his cell phone number would have come to so great a use?

* * *

_10:23 AM, Local Time (11:23 PM, Bora Bora) – Ben's Flat in Greenwich, London_

"It's not him," Ben suddenly stated, burying his head in his hands. "It's not him…"

Snake stared at his friend in surprise. "How can you be so sure, Ben? It certainly looks like him…"

"Because I know him better than you do. It's not him."

Several minutes had passed since the photo had arrived on Ben's phone. In those few minutes, Eagle had transferred the image to his laptop for greater clarity. Not a minute had passed since the image had popped up on the larger screen and convinced the men that they had found him – except for Ben.

He raised his head back up. "Look," he explained, pointing to the person's right calf on the screen as he explained, "it's not him. See there?"

"See what?" Wolf asked. "There's nothing there."

"Exactly! _That's_ the problem!" He sighed as the three men continued to stare at him as if he were crazy. "We were on a mission together in Kenya, oh, probably a month or two after he came back from the States. Our cover was blown and we had to run. We had started over a high wall at the same time, but I made it over first, with Alex right behind me when it happened. Back-up was practically right on the other side, we knew; we just had to get over the wall and we would be home free. But they were closing in fast by the time we even reached the wall – faster than either of us had thought. As Alex was hoisting himself over the top of the wall – one leg already balanced on the top – one of the men grabbed his ankle, and, as a last effort to at least slow us down, stabbed him with a knife. I think they were hoping that he'd lose his grip on the wall, fall back to their side, and then they'd have a bargaining chip. He didn't, obviously; through the pain, he still managed to get far enough over the wall that I could pull him the rest of the way. Long story short: There should still be a scar there – a yet-very visible scar."

K-Unit was dumb-founded. Finally, Eagle asked, "Ben? Just how many missions have you been on with Alex?"

"As an actual mission or including the ones with me acting as back-up? The former would be five; the latter, eight more. Plus, he stayed with me for two months while recovering from extensive injuries sustained during one of our missions. He didn't like the idea – he's completely independent, and I'm sure he would have been fine – but Mrs. Jones insisted on it."

"Is that how you two got so close?" Snake asked hesitantly.

A pause. "…Yeah. He had to trust me for the missions we were partners on, as well as the ones where I was part of his back-up team; in both situations, he had to trust that I would come bail him out if he got into trouble. On that first mission we went on together, though…" He sighed. "Well, it was almost a disaster because he didn't trust me. The second one was the same; on the third one, I think he finally got it when I refused to leave him behind. And when he was staying with me…" Ben shook his head sadly. "Let's just say I learned far more than I wanted to about everything he's been through – and, according to Alex, what I learned was only just scratching the surface."

"Nothing, I suppose, that you can tell us?" Wolf asked, cocking an eyebrow.

"Well, he does trust me, so you would be correct," Ben answered. "He doesn't trust many people…"

Ben's phone started to vibrate madly from where it sat on the corner of the table in front of its owner. Ben picked it up instantly, checking the ID. Anger flashed in his eyes as he announced the caller. "Damien _Bouchard_."

"How the heck…?"

"Automatic caller identification," Ben answered Snake's half-spoken question. "In typical Smithers style, this phone can identify basically any other phone number in the world." Without a second thought, he stabbed the 'Accept' key on the touch screen. "Yes?"

"Ben! Thank God!"

Ben paled significantly, causing the others to question him in their gazes. When he responded, though, his one-word answer caused all of K-Unit to follow suit. "_Alex?!"_

"Uhm, long story short, I kind of stole Bouchard's phone."

"Alex, K-Unit is here with me; let me put you on speaker." He pulled the phone from his ear, hitting one button on the screen and a second on the side at the same time. Then he placed it in the center of the table. "Alex?"

"I'm still here – shit! Where did _they_ come from? Sorry, but suddenly I'm being tailed!" Gun shots could be easily heard in the background.

"Alex? Alex! Just us where you are, and we'll come and get you."

"I'd love to!" More gun shots and a yelp from Alex. "Unfortunately, I don't know! Somewhere with white sand beaches and a lot of craggy cliffs." Another yelp then the closing of a metal door.

"Are you sure there isn't anything else you can tell us?" Wolf asked.

"Sorry, but I'm still in the building, looking for any kind of exit that won't result in my imminent death." A pause. "Shit!"

"Alex? Alex! Keep talking to me, kiddo."

Gun shots echoed on the other end of the line. "I'm still here. Maybe not for long though." Closer gun shots. "I'm getting low on ammo… Guess I should have taken both guns back there… Didn't know I was going to have so many guards on my tail considering there was no one around for the first twenty minutes or so." They heard more gun shots and a sharp gasp. "Ow…"

"Alex?!"

"'m okay… Just grazed me." Another door slammed; ragged breathing came over the line all the clearer. "With all these doors… You'd think… That _one_ of them… Would lead to the _outside!" _

A moment passed in silence before a different voice drifted from further away, the words still audible across the evident distance.

"I thought I told you that I wasn't finished with you yet."

A sharp gasp from Alex. "No… No, it can't be…"

"Ah, but it is! How nice of you to remember me after so much time! Say goodbye to whomever you were speaking with. You have been a very bad boy, and now it's time for your punishment."

Another gasp from Alex, then, judging from the loud banging that followed, the phone he had been using must have fallen to the floor.

"Alex?" Ben called, worry coating his tone. "Alex!"

A rustling noise, then the second voice came through again. "I'm sorry, but the party you seek is unavailable. He will never _be_ available, either. Goodbye." A loud crunching noise, then… the call ended.

"Damn it!" Wolf yelled, slamming his fist into the table while, at the same moment, standing up. "NO!"

Ben, face impassive, picked his phone back up and used his fingers to navigate across the screen. "It might have just been enough, actually."

Snake stared, incredulous. "_What?"_

"I told you, this is one of Smithers' gadgets. It was originally for a mission, but after I got back, he told me to go ahead and keep it, that it might come in handy. Well, he will be happy to know that it's about to – _hopefully_ – help us find Alex. It has an application on it – that was the second button I pressed when I put it on speaker; if it can find the ID of the caller – like it did just moments ago – then it can also trace the location of the phone. But only if the call lasts long enough and if you can manage to keep the other person talking."

Wolf growled. "Why couldn't we have just found his number and traced the phone in the first place?"

Ben smirked. "Didn't think he'd be stupid enough to have a cell phone registered under his _real name_."

Eagle sighed. "Let's just hope this works."

* * *

_11:46 PM, Local Time (10:46 AM, London) – Bora Bora Island_

Alex crashed through yet another door, breathless. How long was he going to have to run from these maniacs with guns before he finally found an exit? He glanced around, stumbling forward, taking in the enormous size of the room he was in – it had more the look of a dining hall than anything else, only without all the tables. Instantly, a scene from the latest Harry Potter movie flashed in his mind's eye; yes, that was definitely what this place reminded him of. Now if only he really did have some magic… Like to be able to teleport out of this place and back to London… "With all these doors," he panted into the phone, "You'd think… That _one _of them… Would lead to the _outside!"_

He whipped around, suddenly aware that he wasn't the only one in the room. Lights suddenly blinked on revealing someone he had thought he would never see again. "I thought I told you that I wasn't finished with you yet."

"No… No, it can't be…" Violent flashbacks assaulted his mind, his eyes wide with terror mixed with hatred, as understanding suddenly donned.

"_Don't worry about me, Al! Just get yourself out of here!"_

_Alex couldn't move. No. This was not happening… Not Tom, too… He made his decision then: He wasn't going to have anyone else die because of him. He slowly let his arm fall to his side, his fingers uncurling from around the weapon. Time seemed to slow down as the gun fell to the concrete with a clatter, Alex meeting his enemy's gaze with defeat evident in his eyes._

_Across the warehouse, the man smiled evilly. "Say goodbye to your friend, Rider."_

_Alex watched in horror as the man fired the gun and his best – his _only _– friend crumpled to the ground, dead. "NO! TOM!"_

"_That's what you get, Rider," the man chuckled, "for double-crossing us."_

_Alex could hardly breathe, his chest constricted with guilt and sorrow. Somehow he managed to blurt out, "What are you talking about? I gave you what you asked for!"_

_The man scoffed. "You really think we're that stupid here? I know fake information when I see it. You made it all up just so you could get your friend back without compromising your country. Fool! And now you're friend has paid the price. …But I won't do anything to you, Alex Rider – at least, not yet. But, rest assured, we aren't through with you yet!"_

"Ah, but it is! How nice of you to remember me after all this time!" Kaul smiled at Alex's evident distress. "Say goodbye to whomever you were speaking with. You have been a very bad boy, and now it's time for your punishment."

'No… No…' Alex's mind was frozen, repeating the same words over and over again as he struggled to breathe, the phone slipping from his limp fingers. 'Kaul killed Tom… No… No…' So absorbed was he that he didn't even notice when Kaul approached him, sticking a needle into his arm. The world spun, he felt himself hit the floor, but blissful, wanted unconsciousness never came. _'No… No… Kaul killed Tom… No… No…'_

* * *

_"This world just keeps on getting crazier and crazier everyday_  
_You're so afraid_  
_Sometimes it feels like it's chasing your sanity away_  
_And you start to break_  
_Let me help you find your way_

_"Don't give up faith_  
_Don't give up hope_  
_There's always something better_  
_Waiting around the corner_  
_Don't give up now_  
_Please, don't let go_  
_What can feel like the ending_

_Could just be the beginning_  
_Don't give up hope"_

_~Third Day: Don't Give Up Hope_

* * *

**A/N: **Didn't see _that _coming, did you? (Mwahahaha) And some of the scattered pieces start to come together...

_Challenges:  
- _Significance of title, Safegaurds?  
- Tamara Knight has been suggested dead. How did this happen? How is it Alex's fault?  
- Will the phone call result in a location?  
- What does Kaul have in store for Alex?

Bonus: Did you catch the slight suggestion of a slightly mature theme? What was it?

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	14. Chapter 13 Give In, Give Up, Let Go

**Disclaimer: **I'm American. Well - technically, half German, half French. 'Nough said about that.

**A/N: **Not much to say this time except THANK YOU FOR THE REVIEWS! =D You guys make me a very happy author! ...So happy, in fact, that I'm putting off my self-paced class once again, to work on this for you. =)

As always, _italics _are flashbacks. Except, ya know, where they obviously aren't. ;)

WARNING: Slightly-implied slighly-mature theme again. No one noticed last time, but better safe than sorry - and it's a little more evident than last time. It'll be very evident later in the story...

* * *

**Chapter Thirteen – Give In, Give Up, Let Go**

_11:21 AM, Local Time – Royal and General Bank, London_

"A valiant effort from quick thinking, Agent Daniels, but I'm afraid a general area still doesn't give us much to work with." Mrs. Jones sighed. "Do you realize just how many islands there are between New Zealand and Hawaii? Too many for us to simply search over…"

Ben sighed in frustration, sliding his finger over the screen of his phone. "It's a little more accurate than that, Mrs. Jones," he quipped. "It's somewhere about half-way between. Surely that narrows down the possibilities?"

"Not by enough to give us anything to work with."

"So that's it then. You're just going to give up? Alex needs our help, we are the only ones who can give it, and you're going to ignore the only thing he's ever asked for: back-up. The longer we leave him there, the worse he's going to be when we find him. If I have to go rogue, Mrs. Jones, then I will. But I refuse to leave him in the hands of The Amara."

Mrs. Jones rubbed at her eyes wearily. "I don't know how to tell you this gently, Ben, but The Amara is like nothing the world has ever seen before. If they don't want Alex to be found, then he won't be found."

"Really," Ben questioned, arms folding in front of him as he leaned forward, "then how had we found so many of their strongholds thus far?"

"Because they _wanted_ us to," she stated.

Ben sat back, startled. "What?"

"We have found what they have wanted us to find, Ben. They _want_ us to know who they are, so they have given themselves away – to a point. They _want_ us to know what's coming because they know we can't stop them."

"That didn't stop us from finding Alex before. Somehow, I don't think they wanted us to that first time, either."

"Perhaps not, but leaving Alex there is our only chance to bring them down."

"You didn't see him on South Georgia Island." Everyone's attentions were immediately drawn to the black-haired soldier who hadn't said a word since the meeting had begun. "If you leave him there, he'll break," Wolf continued. "When we found him, he had no hope left – he had resigned himself to the fact that he was going to die, and even though we were right there in front of him, he still didn't believe he was ever going to escape that cell. You leave him there, he'll _die_, Mrs. Jones; he'll give up and the only thing you'll have succeeded in doing is killing a kid who never should have been involved in the world of espionage in the first place."

"He's right," Snake added quietly. "I'm not sure how much more he'll be able take – physically or mentally. Enough damage has been done; we need to get him out before they can do any more."

"That's why he's so useful to us, on the other hand. You see, damaged people are dangerous because they know they can survive – _Alex _knows he can survive," Mrs. Jones tried to placate.

"Does he?" Eagle asked barely above a whisper. "Again, you didn't see him on that island. He was bloody convinced he was going to _die._ Does that sound like he knows he can survive to you?"

Mrs. Jones inwardly squirmed. She didn't want to leave him there, really; but she also didn't have the resources to call for a search of so many islands. Not to mention that the teen had been known to pull out the unlikely, after all. Outwardly, she only reached for a peppermint. "The fact still remains that I do not have the personnel for such a search. I would consider pulling him out if we had an exact location, but we don't. And, since someone is obviously aware that he spoke to someone, they could have relocated him again by now, anyway. The only thing that phone call proved was that he is still alive. Like I said, we only find what they want us to find, so we won't find Alex."

"And what if they slipped up again, huh?" Ben spat. "They already have once, don't you see? Bouchard had a number registered to his own name. _He slipped up._ What if they slip up again? What if they keep him where he is and we sit here and do nothing about it?"

"That's an awful lot of 'what if's', Agent Daniels. If we ran on 'what if's' this country would be in shambles."

Wolf growled and then slowly grinned. "You're right. That's the SAS's job – to go chasing the 'what if's' you lot here at MI6 give us. If you won't do anything, maybe they will."

"Oh, really," Mrs. Jones replied blandly. "And they would listen to you lot… why?"

Eagle shared in the unit leader's grin. "Our old unit sergeant has been promoted a couple times in the past few years – the very sergeant who placed Alex in our unit when he was at the base four years ago. He now has some measure of authority, and I'm sure he would be _thrilled _to learn the_ real_ reason why Alex was at Brecon Beacons."

"Are you blackmailing me?"

Ben grinned. "Not any more than you ever blackmailed Alex into working for you."

"If you won't try to find him because of 'lack of resources' as you've stated a few times now," Snake added, also grinning, "then allow the SAS, that employs far more men, to do it for you. Don't think of it as blackmail, Mrs. Jones, but a simple solution. Either MI6 can find a way or a lot of unnecessary personnel will have to be brought into the loop of the fact that you were using a _minor_. Your choice, Mrs. Jones."

* * *

_7:32 PM, Local Time, Two Days Later – Bora Bora Island, South Pacific Ocean_

Alex groaned, not daring to even shift to a more comfortable position on his bed. Everything hurt; his head, his shoulders, his thighs, his feet… _everything. _ There was blood coming from somewhere, too, but Alex didn't have the energy to find out where. Kaul hadn't been as physical as Bouchard had been, it was true, but that didn't make it any less painful. Bruises hurt just as much as blood, after all – maybe more, he mused, considering he didn't dare move right at the moment…

He opened his eyes upon hearing the door click open behind him, revealing the smiling face of one Sanjeet Kaul. "Have we learned our lesson yet, Alex?" the man taunted cruelly.

"I'm sorry," Alex answered sarcastically. "I didn't realize you were 'teaching' me anything – it seemed more like you were beating the tar out of me."

Kaul's smile fell fractionally. "Well, I guess I just haven't gotten my point across clear enough yet. I'm about to fix that, though, you see. You won't soon forget to whom you belong after this."

"I belong to no one."

"Right," Kaul scoffed. "Sure you don't. I'm sure cattle believe that, too – until someone comes along and burns their mark into the hide. Which is _exactly _what I intend to do to you."

"You don't scare me."

Kaul smiled. "Maybe not, but I would still wager that you scream when I burn my mark into your flesh. You will never be allowed to forget to whom you belong. No one will ever forget!

"Do you know the Hindi language, Alex?"

"No." Alex had to wonder at the subject change. Just what was he getting at?

"Ah! Let me enlighten you then! Not that you really have a choice in the matter. You see, boy, English is not my native tongue – Hindi is. I was forced to learn English by my father who was always insisting that someday it would be the universal language and I would have to learn it anyway. Obviously, it has come to great use these past few years as I have built up this fine organization! _The Amara _– has a nice ring to it, doesn't it? _The Immortal!_ You see, Alex, long after I am gone, I will still live on – because people will always remember my name after we take over the world! _I _will be immortal! And you – you, Alex Rider – will never be able to forget because my mark will be forever burned to your being."

"And just what makes you think that you'll succeed?"

"Because I am _invincible,_ Alex! It is the very meaning of my Christened name! From the very beginning, _this _was my _destiny!"_

He paused, turning as the door opened to let in two guards, one holding two pairs of metal handcuffs, the other very carefully carrying a black, metal pole, the end of it concealed in what looked to Alex to be a metal container of hot coals. "Ah! Perfect timing, gentlemen!" He turned back to Alex with a cruel smirk. "What fun we will have!"

Alex gulped, his mind taken from the room, once again.

_Heat. Painful, searing heat. That was all his mind could comprehend. Pain – something digging into his side, red hot fire racing up his side. Someone's voice: "Welcome to Hell." No escape. Burning, burning, burning… No escape, no relief… Cruel laughter. Pain, heat, burning! Never ending…_

* * *

_7:51 AM, Local Time (8:51 PM Bora Bora) – Royal and General Bank, London_

Mrs. Jones set the phone down in its cradle with a soft click. "It's settled then. The SAS can spare us twelve teams; any others will have to be MI6. What's the plan, Benjamin?"

"The signal was centered on French Polynesia, so I've made a list of all the islands within 200 miles* of the central island," he responded. "We'll branch out from there if we have to, but Smithers said that range should be fairly certain. Unfortunately, there are still seventeen islands, some of them fairly large. I took the time to see which have airports or at least airstrips of some kind and have paired some of the smaller islands together. Since not all of them have somewhere to land a plane, acquiring those with capabilities to land on water would be of the upmost benefit."

Mrs. Jones nodded. "I'll see to it to have a few ready and available to you when you arrive. How many search teams are needed?"

"The best I could do," Ben sighed, "was sixteen – and that's stretching pretty thin. Although, it would be much more of stretch if not for one thing: We know that Alex is in a building along the coast – provided they haven't moved him further inland, anyway. The search will go much quicker when they only have to search the coastline – in some cases anyway. Some of these islands are more like long strips of land that accidently popped out of nowhere, or are a collection of small islands. Those teams are really going to have their work cut out for them."

"I knew it wasn't going to be a quick task," Mrs. Jones stated. "The SAS teams will be briefed on the rescue in about an hour; I've already faxed everything through for them except what to what island each unit will be assigned – you can let them know that yourself whenever you please. You will all be boarding a Boeing 777 tomorrow morning at six o'clock sharp. Since we are searching numerous islands, after all, I went ahead and arranged for you to switch planes in Costa Rica to Lockheed C-5 Galaxies – don't give me that look, Ben; I did the best I could. I know they aren't the fastest possible, but they suit our purpose."

"We still need four teams…" Wolf mused, changing the subject.

She nodded curtly. "Three actually. I didn't count K-Unit in the number the SAS is sending to us. I already have a few agents in mind; three of them, along with Ben, will make a team. Any ideas, Ben, for the other two?"

The agent nodded. "There are a few other agents who already know about Alex; it would be easiest to use them so you don't have to spend time clearing new agents. Henderson, Smith, Jackson, Sorin… they all have worked with him before in some capacity. Trask, Adair, and Chadwick were in the original search for him when we went to Senegal, so they wouldn't need to be cleared, either."

Mrs. Jones tapped the names into her computer. "All of them are currently available. I'll send them an email right now." She tapped on the keyboard for a few moments before looking back up at the five men in her office. "We just need one more person."

Ben rubbed his chin in thought before sighing. "You might just have to –." He stopped abruptly, eyebrows rising. "Actually, I bet I know someone who would be more than willing to join the search… Someone to whom this search would be quite a personal matter." He grinned as the others frowned in confusion.

"Oh, yes," Ben muttered, still grinning. "I'm sure he wouldn't think twice!"

* * *

_11:02 AM, Local Time (10:02 PM, London) – Bora Bora_

Alex might have cried out as he was shoved roughly against the wall if he had still had a voice left after the night before. He tightly closed his eyes against the pain as Kaul's fingernails dug deeply into his shoulders – one of which was still angry and red from the branding iron the night before. He could feel the hard nails as they punctured his skin, small rivulets of crimson slowly forming from the crescent-shaped marks.

"Would you care to repeat that?" Kaul spat, only centimeters from Alex's face.

"N-n-no," he somehow managed to rasp out.

"That's almost a shame," Kaul spoke, his voice dropping to a whisper. "I do so love to punish you!"

Alex's stomach twisted painfully, making him want to vomit. "You're sick," he rasped. The grip tightened on his shoulders causing him to gasp in pain.

A demented laugh reached his ears. "Maybe so," he chuckled. "But I am also winning!"

"The call went through," Alex whispered, teeth gritted. "They're coming for me…"

"You really still believe that lie?" Kaul scoffed. "Even if they do, Rider, you won't be getting away from me again. Just like Bouchard got away in South Georgia, I always have a backup plan – and I won't have to leave you behind, either, like that old fool! Thank you for killing him, by the way – you saved me the trouble! You see, he had about outlasted his usefulness… I was going to dispose of him before much longer, but now, I guess I won't have to! See, Alex? You _belong _here, with The Amara! You have what it takes to be the best assassin the world has ever seen!"

"That's where you're wrong, Kaul," Alex whispered shakily. "I don't enjoy killing people…"

_Alex stared down, shaking, at the lifeless body that was once Julius Grief. Oh, God… What had he just done? No… No, it wasn't his fault… Wasn't it? He pulled the trigger… And now Julius was dead. Oh, God… What had he just done?_

That demented laugh again. "You can learn – after all, you're too good; you shouldn't waste your talent! What do you say, Alex? All of this pain can end with one, little word."

"_I can help you, Alex," Sabina pleaded. "Just say the word, and it'll all be over! Please… all of the pain can end, Alex…"_

"You're wrong again. The pain will never end – even if I did say yes."

"_You can't help me!" he yelled back. "Don't you see? None of this can be reversed; what's done is done! And no matter how hard you try, you can't change it!"_

"Then what have you got to lose, Alex, if you will be in pain either way? The answer is nothing! Nothing at all!"

"_No matter how much I want it, Sab, I can't change the past!"_

"_I'm not saying that you can! But you don't have to _live_ in the past, Alex! You can move forward! –."_

"_You don't know what you're talking about!"_

_She reached out and grabbed his wrist in attempt to stop his retreat into his room – and instantly pulled her hand away again as if she had been shocked. "A-Alex?" she whispered staring at her hand._

"So what say you, Alex Rider?"

* * *

_9:34 AM, London Time – Somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean_

Ben sat wearily rubbing his eyes with his thumb and first finger. With a sigh, he gazed down at the papers in front of him. Sixteen units, twelve different sectors to search, less than six hours left to decide where everyone was headed from Costa Rica. M-Unit to Tikehua… C-Unit to Tuha'a… G- and P-Units to Uturoa… MI6-1 to Maiao and Tetiaroa…

"How's it coming?" Wolf asked from the isle. "The other groups are starting to get restless, what with not knowing where exactly they're going…"

Ben sighed. "Still trying to piece it together. Tell them to be patient, please."

"Ben? I'm honestly kinda with them. What _is _taking so long for you decide?"

"Just… We don't know where he is or what he's been through since he's been there. What if he doesn't trust whoever finds him enough to go with them? It'd be better if someone found him whom he already knows, but we can't plan for that since we don't know where he is…"

"We're just going to have to hope that doesn't happen. I know how you feel, Ben, but, like you said, we can't really plan for someone he knows and trusts to find him. If we could, well, we wouldn't need sixty-four guys for this search-and-rescue."

Ben frowned, scribbling quickly on a few folded pieces of paper. "Alright… This'll have to do. You take half; I'll take the other half. Each page has the unit and the place they're going."

Wolf nodded. "Right."

A few moments later found Ben plopping back down into his seat, but this time with his three other 'unit' mates to plot out their plan of attack once they landed. Around them, the other men were moving about to do the same, laying out maps of the islands they were headed towards.

'_Hold on, Alex,'_ Ben mentally encouraged._ 'We're on our way!'_

* * *

_"This time your heart said it's had enough_  
_Sick and tired of everything that's so messed up_  
_You don't wanna move on just playing games_  
_Praying hard somehow that your life will change_  
_When you feel like you don't know what to do_  
_Stuck inside this maze you can't go through"_

_"Don't give up_  
_Help is surely on its way_  
_And don't give up_  
_And the dark is breaking in today_  
_And just keep on moving through these storms_  
_And soon enough you'll find the door_  
_Just don't give up_  
_Oh, and don't give up"_

_~Calling Glory: Don't Give Up_

* * *

**A/N: **Those island names that you can't pronounce? Yeah, real places. I looked it up. =P Same with the planes they're using... But the islands definitely took longer. And, yeah, I used miles in this chapter; previous I tried to stick to meters/kilometers because more international readers would be more familiar with those units. But after the first time of figuring out a good radius to use, I didn't want to redue it in kilometers. =P

_Challenges:  
- _Significance of title, Give In, Give Up, Let Go?_  
_- Is Mrs. Jones right that The Amara only let them find what they want them to? Or is she just looking for a reason to not to look for Alex?  
- Why did Sabina pull her hand away (in the flashback)?  
- Will Alex finally give in to Kaul?  
- Who will end up finding Alex, if anyone?

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	15. Chapter 14 I Spy with My Little Eye

**Disclaimer: **Do I really have to say it? Don't own it.

**A/N: **Oh my goodness! I am so, so, SO sorry this took so long! I was half way through the first draft of this chapter when I decided it was terrible. It was so terrible that I couldn't stand to even look at it to try to fix it. Took me about a week to figure out how to fix it, then it was a matter of finding _time_ to fix it between classes, homework, and work. Oi.

That's why I never sent out a preview for this chapter. I thought after all this time waiting, you guys would prefer to just get the whole shabang. I will still respond to the signed-in reviewers right after I post this... (If I have time before I go to work. But it'll be sometime today.) Thanks so much to those of you who reviewed, especially Hollyblue2, who reviewed every chapter she hadn't previously (I think...). =)

Challenges: So, a whole two people got the one right about why Sabina pulled her hand away - well, technically three, actually. And they were all annons! =)  
The mystery person is also revealed this chapter; it was supposed to be a challenge question but I forgot. *Facepalm*

Do I really need to say it? _Italics _are flashbacks.

* * *

_"Now I can taste_  
_The war that I've been fighting_  
_Start to fall but I'm still standing here_  
_Behind the wall of dying faith_

_"I can't forget_  
_The fight that's growing stronger_  
_Face to face with hopes of longer days_  
_To build on something we should save_

_"I stand alone_  
_I'm on my own_  
_My hands will bleed (my hands will bleed!)_  
_I'm holding on to what is gone_  
_What's left of me?"_

_~Story of the Year: Falling Down_

* * *

**Chapter Fourteen – I Spy With My Little Eye**

_1:13 PM, Local Time – Five Minutes from Moorea_

Wolf stared out the window as the waves grew closer and closer to the belly of the Lockheed. Distantly, the unit leader could make out the outlines of other islands the teams would soon be searching around, one larger than the others. He let out a sigh. 'Please let him be here,' he thought.

Glancing around him, he saw Snake beside him, making a few last-minute preparations, making certain he would have any needed medical supplies available but praying he wouldn't have to use them. Eagle was checking over all of the K-Unit's weapons. Mole was setting the correct long-distance frequency to all of their radios and checking to make sure they were in working order.

In no time at all, the jet landed, the unit moving quickly to grab their gear and get to the nearby boat that was waiting to take them around the island. Wolf settled in next to his comrades, nodding once, briefly, to the tanned boat driver, as he pulled out his binoculars. "White sand beaches," the unit leader sighed. "Doesn't give us much to go on all things considered…"

"True," Mole stated, "but I doubt that much of the island – if any – will have any sharp, rocky drops to go with them."

Wolf nodded vaguely as the boat started up. "Let's just get this show on the road…"

* * *

_1:47 PM – Off the Coast of Naiu_

Ben watched the shore intently as the driver sped the group of MI6 agents around the island. He sighed; so far there was nothing here – the coast simply melded with the sea.

"Guess we can safely rule out this one, huh?" Trevor asked.

Ben nodded. "Let's get back to the airport and fly on over to Mataiva. Spending any more time here would be a waste."

"I must admit," the driver of the boat commented. "This is certainly an…_interesting _rescue mission you seem to be on. May I enquire as to whom you are searching for?"

"Sorry," Ben answered wearily, rubbing his eyes. "It's… rather sensitive information."

"'Classified,' in other words," the man spoke good-naturedly. "Military Intelligence then. Should have guessed – only they could launch something so huge."

A beat of silence passed before Ben asked, "Say, uh, I don't suppose you've seen anything suspicious around these parts, have you?"

The man shrugged. "Seen quite a few small jets – the private type – flying into the Bora Bora—Tahiti area lately, but that's not really suspicious, I guess. Big resorts for the rich and famous over that way, you know."

"Of course," Ben answered. "Well, thank you anyway."

The remaining minutes passed in relative silence. As the boat docked and Ben's unit clamored off, the driver grabbed Ben's arm as he made to step onto the dock. When Ben met his gaze, the man stated, "Good luck in your search, sir. I hope you find your man."

Ben nodded once. "Thank you. We will – I won't stop until we do."

* * *

_1:51 PM – Bora Bora_

Sanjeet Kaul sat comfortably in his office chair, sipping hot tea, a satisfied smile spread across his lips. _Victory! _ At long last, Alex had broken! Well, not completely, maybe, but he would soon. After all, he hadn't protested nearly as fiercely this time around. Alex had even said, "I'll think about it" much to the delight of the leader. Yes, sweet _victory_ in achieving what no one else in the world had been able to do: Breaking Alex Rider!

His sweet reverie was cut short, however, as a man burst through the door of his office; normally such an interruption would annoy him to no end, but nothing could shatter his mood today! "This had better be an emergency," he spoke passively. "What is it?"

"Sir," the man panted, "our radar has picked up on sixteen jets flying into the islands."

"What of it?"

"They have been confirmed _military _jets, sir!"

Sanjeet raised an eyebrow. "Really, now. So they _did _come for him after all…"

"Shall we evacuate immediately, sir?"

Kaul tapped one, long fingernail against his tea cup. "No… No, I think not. If – and that's a very big _if _– they happen to stumble upon us, we still have the Emergency System. Let's just wait and see what happens. Keep me posted, though; I want to know how close they get before they give up."

"Yes, sir. I will, sir."

"You know, Duval, I rather like you – you have helped our cause substantially in the past year, allowing us access to a refueling point in Senegal like you did. I just might make you my new second in command. Depending on how this goes, of course."

The man straightened up slightly. "I will notify you of any changes, sir." He turned and exited the same way he had entered.

Sanjeet Kaul smiled. "How much is this boy worth to you, MI6, that you would send sixteen teams to retrieve him?" he muttered to himself with a chuckle. "Is he really still worth so much to you now that he is broken?"

* * *

_2:58 PM – Paoaoa Point, Bora Bora Island_

Derek Smithers adjusted the focus on his binoculars as he scanned the coast from the fishing skiff his team was aboard. "Hey, Michaels!" the thin Scot called to his comrade. "I think I have a visual on that black-winged petrel."

The man – Michaels – quickly instructed the driver to stop and crossed the deck to his comrade. Smithers handed off the binoculars. Michaels gave a low whistle. "Get out your fishin' lines, mates. This looks to be the best spot to catch some Pacific Blue Marlin. We'd better report back to –."

"Alright, everyone," Ben's voice came over the radio. "Check in. MI6-2, Mataiva and Naiu are dead; about to start on Makatea."

"M-Unit reporting. Nothing of use thus far in Tikehau."

"D-Unit here. Nothing in northern Huahine."

"L-Unit reporting. Nothing in southern Huahine either."

"X-Unit reporting. Tupai is dead, starting on Maupitti now."

"K-Unit here. Nothing on Moorea yet, either, I'm afraid."

Johnson – their communications man – scrambled for his radio as Smithers turned back to observe the building. "MI6-3 reporting; we have a visual! I repeat, we have a visual in Bora Bora."

* * *

_2:59 PM – Moorea Island_

Wolf was beginning to grow frustrated with the search. "Why are we still searching this island?" he asked for the umpteenth time. "It's obvious the terrain isn't changing any time soon, and this is _definitely not_ what Alex described!"

Eagle sighed. "For one thing, we're already over half-way around so we might as well just keep going since we'll get back to the airport sooner this way. For another, you never know with ocean islands. He could still be here somewhere, Wolf."

"We're all anxious, Wolf," Snake muttered. "Just keep watching the shore."

For a few moments, the only sounds around the unit were the waves crashing around them and the boat's motor as it worked to carry them over the surface of the bay. With the amount of white noise around them, the unit startled slightly when a voice came over their radios.

"Alright, everyone," Ben's voice came over the radio. "Check in. MI6-2, Mataiva and Naiu are dead; about to start on Makatea."

The unit listened in to the reports, giving their own along the way, with growing unease. No one yet had found anything even remotely close to what they were searching for. Then, as the reports were coming to a close, they heard the unexpected, yet hoped-for, report.

"MI6-3 reporting; we have a visual! I repeat, we have a visual in Bora Bora."

K-Unit stared at each other in shock. "What?" Wolf whispered.

"6-3, did we hear you correctly?" Ben's voice asked urgently.

"Yes, sir," the voice changed to one they recognized as MI6's gadget man. "It certainly fits the description. White sand beaches in view from the windows, but under the building itself is a rather jagged cliff. Not to mention the guards with AK-47s outside the building and on the roof. It's the best lead we've got, Agent Daniels."

"What is your position?"

"Bora Bora, near Paoaoa Point. We're disguised in a fishing boat."

A pause. "I'll dispatch the nearest units to you. The rest of us will follow as quickly as possible." Another pause. "Units X, C, G, P, D, and L please respond. Report immediately to Bora Bora Island. I repeat, please report immediately!" After the units had responded one after another in the affirmative, Ben continued. "All units make your way to Bora Bora. I repeat, all units make your way to Bora Bora."

K-Unit had barely glanced at each other before Wolf stood up and moved to the boat driver. "How fast can you get us to Bora Bora?"

The man smiled deviously. "How fast do you need to get there?"

* * *

_3:12 PM – Bora Bora, Just Off the Coast_

Smithers sat surveying the building in front of him and his team. "If you're hiding something the best way to give it away is with armed guards patrolling." He shook his head. "And Mrs. Jones thinks these blokes are masterminds…" He pulled the binoculars away from his eyes at the sound of an approaching boat. He spoke into his radio. "X-Unit, come in."

"X-Unit here. We see you, MI6-3."

He smiled slightly. "Rodger that. Keep your distance for the time being; we don't want them to get suspicious. Stand by for further instructions." He paused for a moment before radioing Ben. "MI6-2, what do you want us to do after we acquire a little more backup?"

"Storm the place," came the answer. "Do whatever you have to in order to get in, get Alex, and get out."

Smithers nodded. "Rodger that, Ben. I hope you won't regret that statement."

"Believe me, I won't."

* * *

_3:16 PM – Bora Bora, Inside Headquarters_

"So, Alex," Kaul questioned mundanely, "have you thought anymore about our little talk yesterday?"

Alex slowly opened eyes from where he laid on the cot. "I have."

"And…?"

"And…" Alex sighed. "I don't know yet…"

Kaul smiled creepily. "Come now, Alex. It's not a difficult decision to make! You yourself said that no matter what you do, you always seem to hurt people in the end. So what difference does it make? Why not hurt people _with a purpose to hurt them _instead of causing them pain unintentionally? If you're going to cause pain, you might as well _mean _to do so. You cannot avoid your destiny, Alex, and causing pain is obviously yours!"

Alex bit the inside of his lip. He couldn't deny the man's words. So many deaths on his hands… None of them had been intentional. But even when someone didn't end up dead, he still ended up hurting them.

"_Sab…"_

"_Just stop, Alex," she spoke, wiping away a tear. "I hate seeing you like this. No one should hurt this much…"_

"_It's not that simple…"_

"Give in, Alex," Kaul continued. "You know this would be what's best for everyone."

"_You've changed, Alex," Tom stated quietly. "What happened? Where's Jack?"_

"_I don't want to talk about it," he stoically replied._

"_Alex…"_

"_Just stop," he snapped, turning abruptly. "Stop. I'm not going to tell you or anyone else, alright?"_

"_Fine," Tom stated dejectedly. "Just – fine. I'm just trying to help, but whatever, I guess."_

Alex bit back tears, his eyes falling closed. He couldn't hurt anyone else but himself if he had no ties but to his employer.

"_If this is the real you, Alex, I'm not sure I want to, either. I'm sorry, Alex, but I can't keep doing this. I can't keep trying to stick up for you when I don't even know who you are anymore…"_

Did _he himself _even know who he was anymore? If he accepted, he knew it wouldn't be long before there was nothing left of the person he used to be. But then again, he already hated everything he had become. What was one more thing to add to that infinite list? And yet… Was this what he really wanted? Of course not! It was every bit the opposite. If he gave in…

"_Alex Rider! What do you think you're doing?"_

"_I'm tired, Ian…"_

"_I don't care! Let it be said that no nephew of mine _ever _gave up because something was too hard or he was too tired! Get back on your feet, soldier!"_

"No," Alex finally whispered in a shaky voice.

Kaul frowned. _"What?!"_

"I said no," Alex repeated slightly stronger, eyes opening again, this time full of determination. "I'm a Rider…"

"And what in the high heavens is that supposed to mean?"

"I don't give up. No matter what comes, I stand my ground." He closed his eyes again for a moment. "My uncle taught me that."

"Your uncle was a very stupid man. Because, now, that piece of advice is going to get you killed."

His eyes opened again, hatred evident. "Obviously you need to do more research on me then. I don't die easily."

"There's a first time for everything!"

The door opened with a bang, interrupting their hostile banter. Kaul frowned. "This had better be good, Duval."

"Sir," he answered with a nod, "I think you need to see this! There's this boat just off the coast and these men – well, you need to see this to believe it, sir!"

Kaul's brow furrowed. "What on earth are you talki –." Before he could finish his sentence, Alex had sprung up from his cot, ignoring the pain, and had shoved him into Duval – who had proved to be the perfect distraction for Alex to act. Unprepared, Kaul was caught off guard and toppled into his messenger.

Alex pulled the gun from Kaul's holster at the same moment he shoved past him to the door. He spun back around in the doorway, clicking the safety off and aiming for Kaul's chest. Stunned, the man could only stand and stare – though the passive expression never once fell from his countenance. "Now," Alex spoke in a low voice. "You both are going to just sit tight in here, and let me leave in peace. Understood?"

Kaul chuckled lightly. "Go on, then, little Alex. Get out of here – out of this room anyway. But how do you expect to get passed all of my security guards, hm? You can't shoot them all with a gun that isn't even fully loaded. Go ahead, run. But you won't get far, I can tell you that much."

Without another word, Alex grabbed the door handle with one hand while the other kept the pistol trained on his enemy. He closed the door, locking it securely behind him, and slowly began to make his way down the corridor.

* * *

_3:21 PM – Panoramio, Bora Bora_

"Alright," Smithers spoke. "Everyone know what their task is?" When the other six units nodded consent, he continued. "Good. Let's go then. L-Unit, radio me when you get in position but don't start until I give word. When everyone is in position, the raid will commence. Dismissed."

As L-Unit moved back down the dock to the boat they had come in on, the other six units present in Bora Bora headed up to the street to try to catch taxis to take them as close to Paoaoa Point as possible.

"How did we get stuck in 'distraction' detail?" Iguana mumbled as the four SAS men boarded the boat.

"Short straw," Porcupine answered. "Just make the best of it, men."

A few moments later, Iguana radioed in. "L-Unit to MI6-3. We're ready to catch something big!"

"Rodger that," Smithers replied as the other units trekked through forest land. "Stand by." As they continued down the peninsula, the six units began to fan out. Not having a layout of the building would make it that much more difficult so they would be sure to cover every angle – in theory, at least two of the units would find an entrance immediately. When the building came into view, Smithers gave the signal. "MI6-3 to all units. Let's reel it in!"

As one, the units surged forward – all except L-Unit, of course, who were being especially distracting in the bay. The six units on land, made it through four different doors without firing a single shot. "MI6-3 to all units. Don't hold back. Do whatever you have to. Report when the fish has been fried."

"K-Unit to MI6-3. We are approaching the compound," Wolf's voice statically came over the radio.

"Very good," Smithers replied. "Proceed inside when you arrive."

* * *

_3:33 PM – Paoaoa Point, Bora Bora_

K-Unit didn't hesitate as they burst out through the underbrush, sprinting for the nearest door. The guards, still thoroughly distracted, never saw them – unit they reached the interior. Eagle didn't hesitate to snipe the first person he saw who wasn't SAS or MI6. Somewhere else in the building, the unit could hear other shots going off – they weren't the only ones to run into a little trouble.

"Just how large _is _this building?" Eagle commented as they continued to wind their way through the seemingly endless corridors. "This place is certainly a lot bigger than we thought from the outside…."

Mole shook his head. "No wonder Alex couldn't find a way out before they caught up with him again. If we find him, I'm not sure _we_ will be able to get back out…"

"That's why we have a tech team," Wolf responded. "They're mapping the building as we go from a tracker in my shoe. As long as we don't get separated, they'll have a pretty good layout of this place by the time we find him." He pushed through yet another door, giving a low whistle when he saw the room. It was more of a long hallway, floor-to-ceiling windows lining the left side, a few potted plants attempting to make the place look a little more cheery. Half way down, the unit stopped, staring at the shattered window pane, a cool breeze blowing through and whipping around them.

"I wonder what happened?" Snake mused quietly. "And if it has something to do with Alex?"

"Knowing the trouble Cub has gotten himself into with these guys? I wouldn't doubt it," Wolf sighed. "C'mon. There's another hallway at the other end." Tearing themselves from the mystery of the window, the unit hurried on to the much narrower corridor. "Staircase up ahead," Wolf muttered as the corridor came to a close. As they neared the top, they could hear rapidly running footfalls followed my gun shots. The four pressed back against the wall of the stairwell before slowly and silently edging back down and around the corner, just out of sight of anyone coming down the steps. Wolf, who was in the lead, peered around the corner as the steps started down towards them. In the semi-light of the passage, Wolf gave a start before turning back to his comrades. "Get ready for a fight."

With a thud, a young man appeared in front of them, staggering slightly forward into the wall. As he started to run again, Wolf reached out of the shadows and grabbed hold of him around the waist.

"Hey! Lemme go!" he fought weakly.

"Cub!" Wolf exclaimed quietly. "Calm down! It's us – it's K-Unit!"

Alex tensed against him as he looked at the other three men who were also semi-hidden in the shadows. "Wolf?" he asked quietly.

"Yeah, kid. We're here. A lot of us. We're getting you out of here."

"Then we'd better hurry," Eagle announced, stepping to the base of the stairway and aiming his gun before firing off a round. "Somehow, I don't think we'll be able to hold them off for long…"

Wolf nodded. "Mole, radio the others. Then radio the tech base – see if they've got a good enough map to get us out of here. We'll just have to head back the way we came for the moment." He turned back to the teen who had gone limp against him. "Cub?" No answer. "Alex?" He shifted the teen's weight in order to see him better in the dim light. "Well, this isn't going to be a problem," he muttered sarcastically.

As Eagle fired off another round, Snake turned to the unit leader. "What's wrong?"

Wolf sighed. "Kid's out cold…"

* * *

**A/N: **Just a note 'cause I don't want a bazillion questions about it: Smithers is NOT wearing his fat suit for this. He thought it would make him stand out too much.

_Challenges: _  
- Did anyone think that Duval (if you even remember him from chapter three) would be on the side of the Amara?  
- Is Kaul aware of the raid? If so, has he fled or will the SAS/MI6 forces apprehend him?  
- So, they have Alex now, but he's unconscious. Will they get out safely - and _with _Alex?

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	16. Chapter 15 Trust Me

**Disclaimer: **As much I'd love to, I don't. And you all should probably be glad for that, haha.

**A/N: **Ah, so much love to this story! It now has over 100 alerts! :D ...And the reviews! You guys are awesome! :D

Anywho... **Importand Note: **It's the beginning of October now. The high in Bora Bora: mid-80s. The high in Scotland: mid-50s. Helpful to know by the third paragraph in. ;) Also, bit of OOC Alex, but Snake does briefly explain that - both OOCness and explaination will continue in the next couple of chapters; it's all justified, I promise!

* * *

**Chapter Fifteen – Trust Me**

_7:52 PM, Local Time – Approx. 50 km Southwest of Aberdeen, Scotland, UK_

The first thing Alex noticed as consciousness pulled at him was that everything hurt. Because of that one, simple fact, he tried to pull the blissful darkness back only to be disappointed. Vaguely, he remembered pointing a gun at Kaul and running from a bunch of armed goons. He must have been caught then, he decided – caught and punished to still be hurting so much. Yet somehow, through the pounding in his head, his senses told him otherwise.

The almost absolute silence was what tipped him off first – he should have been able to hear the ocean. But, through the fog in his mind, he registered someone speaking softly, the creak of a wooden floorboard, the ticking of a clock. None of what his ears were telling him made any sense – unless he really had gotten away? Or, maybe, they had simply moved him to yet another compound.

If he was still under Kaul, however, why did this bed feel so comfortable? The cot he'd had before had certainly been better than the floor, but it was nothing compared to this. He could feel his upper body supported by down pillows; a fuzzy, warm blanket was tucked securely around his torso. And, he suddenly realized, he was wearing a long-sleeved shirt that he hadn't had before. It was a little too big for him, but he was glad for it considering the air was much cooler than he last remembered.

Regardless of what he wanted to believe, he didn't want to open his eyes and discover that he was wrong. He knew he would have to eventually, but, for the moment, ignorance was bliss. At least as long as his eyes were closed, he could believe that he had been rescued. As soon as he opened them, he might find Kaul or that 'Duval' guy sitting there, waiting for him to wake up, so they could inflict yet more pain to his already scarred body.

Gathering what little courage remained, he first cracked one eye open, then the other. Glancing around through half-lidded eyes, he took in the white walls, the wooden floor, the rather large window to his right, the door standing open to his left. Directly in front of him, sat a man Alex didn't recognize, his feet propped up on the end of the bed, leaning back so that the chair he was sitting in was only standing on two legs. With his eyes closed, he appeared to be napping.

He couldn't possibly still be in Kaul's clutches, could he be? Two methods of escape and a sleeping guard certainly didn't make it seem likely. Yet… This could all be a ploy. Making the situation seem to be an easy escape would be just like something Kaul would come up with – if for no other reason than to give him a reason to punish Alex. The teen's stomach twisted at the thought. He would just have to find out then, wouldn't he?

Ignoring the pain that coursed through his body at the slightest movement, he slowly, carefully, quietly slipped out of bed. Lifting the knife he saw in the man's pocket from its place, he took a step back before swinging his foot into the chair's leg to topple it over. The result was instant. The man crashed to the floor, rolling to the side as he did so to try to catch himself. Alex grabbed his arm, twisting it behind his back, and forced him back to the floor with a knee in the center of the man's back, holding the knife to his throat. "Who are you and who do you work for?" he demanded in as a commanding voice as he could muster.

The man just gaped at him for a moment before getting out a single word:_ "What?!"_

"Who are you and who do you work for?" Alex repeated. "Now!"

"Cub!" Alex looked up to the doorway, startled by the familiar voice, to find someone he recognized holding out his hands to try to placate the teen. "Cub, it's okay. You're safe here. Just calm down, and take that knife away from Squirrel's throat, please. I promise everything is going to be okay. Just try to calm down."

The man on the floor finally found his voice. "I promise I'm SAS, kid – I'm on your side. I've got the dog tags to prove it."

Alex wasn't sure what to do, his breaths starting to come in disturbingly shallow gasps. The pain was starting to take over his senses again as the adrenaline wore off, replaced with confusion. Where did the SAS come into this whole thing? It only served to confuse him more that he couldn't seem to remember what had happened after he had started running from all those guys with AK-47s pointed at his head – his memory just kind of _ended_. He felt gentle hands on his upper arms, slowly easing him off the other soldier's back. "S-Snake?" he finally stuttered as the two soldiers pulled him up from the floor and guided him back to the bed.

"Just try to take it easy, Cub; deep breathes," the medic responded as they settled him back down into the pillows and pulled the blanket up around him. "This is Squirrel, M-Unit's medic, by the way."

"W-What's going on? What happened? Where am I?" Alex was just barely holding down the panic that he felt rising – though he wasn't sure why it was there in the first place. He was safe… Wasn't he? Nothing seemed to make sense!

"Whoa, slow down, Cub. It's okay, I promise," Snake spoke, perching on the edge of the bed. "You're in a safe house, courtesy of MI6, in Scotland. As for what happened, I think that can wait until you've healed a little more – right now, you just need to rest."

"B-but he'll c-come back…."

Snake frowned slightly. "We're half-a-world away, Cub. He won't find you." Whoever _he _was, Snake thought. "Even if he does, he won't be taking you back. We've got enough people guarding this place that it could practically be a maximum-security prison – more so, even. Trust me, Cub. You are safe here."

"'m not safe anywhere… He told me so…"

"And you trust him more than you trust me?" Snake cocked an eyebrow.

Alex opened his mouth to respond but quickly clamped it shut again, visibly swallowing, his fingers nervously twisting themselves in the fabric of the blanket. A moment passed in silence before, "Snake?"

"Yes?"

"'m really safe here?"

"Yes. Just rest now, Cub. You need it. You've been out for over a day, and you still look like death warmed over."

"I kinda _feel _like death warmed over…" Alex mumbled.

Snake couldn't help but grin a little. "I can imagine." He shook his head.

"What happened? How did I end up here? Why are _you _here?" he asked a little more calmly than before.

The first two questions, Snake reasoned, were perfectly justified; the third however… He furrowed his brow slightly. "You don't remember us finding you?"

Alex started to shake his head no before deciding this was a very bad idea as pain shot down his spine at the slight movement. "No. The last thing I remember was running away from a bunch of guys with guns…"

Noticing Alex wince, Snake sighed before standing up and moving towards a medical kit sitting on the floor behind the door. "You probably aggravated something when you got up, you know – though I can't say as I blame you..." He paused for a moment, rifling through the large box, before pulling out a syringe and an opaque bottle. "This'll make you sleepy, but it's all I've got at the moment that will be strong enough to help." He grinned. "You need the sleep anyway, so I suppose it doesn't really matter." As the medic made his way back to the bed, once again perching on the edge, Alex spoke up again.

"Please tell me what happened, Snake. I need to know."

"Isn't it obvious?" the medic asked gently, starting to clean the sight for the injection. "Ben convinced the heads to send out a search party for you after that phone call. Got the SAS involved because we needed more people. One of the groups spotted the place; we all gathered there and raided it. We found you, got you out, and brought you here." He withdrew the needle from Alex's arm. "Just rest now, okay? We'll talk about it more later if you still want to, I promise."

"But-."

"_Later, _Alex. I promise. You need to rest now. I don't think you'll be able to stay awake long enough to hear all the details, anyway, as soon as that takes effect so you might as well let it alone for now."

Alex _did_ have to admit that he was already feeling the numbing effects of whatever it was Snake had given him. Already he could feel his thoughts wandering, unfocused, towards sleep. Without further protest, he allowed his eyes to fall closed, sleep pulling him into its comforting grasp once again.

* * *

"So what happened? Is Alex alright?" Ben inquired anxiously as both Snake and Squirrel appeared at the base of the steps.

Squirrel smiled wryly. "I think the better question would be if _I'm _alright. Little bugger pinned me to the floor."

"Somehow," Ben sighed, "that doesn't surprise me. What happened?"

"He got scared." Snake shrugged as the trio headed towards the kitchen. "Woke up and didn't know where he was or the person in the room with him. He didn't remember us finding him either, so it's entirely possible that he thought he was still a prisoner of the Amara."

Ben shook his head as they entered the kitchen. "Alex doesn't just 'get scared,' Scott. He's MI6, after all. Disoriented, maybe, but not scared."

Snake reached out a hand, grabbing Ben's shoulder and turning the spy towards him. "You didn't see him, Ben. Yes, he was a little disoriented. But he was definitely _scared, _Ben – I could see it in his eyes, in the way his breathing was hitching not just from the pain. I think we all need to face the possibility that he has been so severely traumatized by what he has been through that he isn't going to act the way we would normally expect him to."

Ben sighed, turning away to put the kettle on for tea. "Let's hope that isn't the case. He had been through more than his fair share or hurts before then sent him out on the mission that landed him in this mess…"

"Which only makes it all-the-more likely, I'm afraid," Squirrel murmured. "We'll just have to cross bridges when we come to them, deal with everything as it happens."

Eagle chose that moment to amble into the kitchen, effectively breaking the tension that had quickly descended.

"How's your arm?" Snake asked his unit mate.

Eagle shrugged his left shoulder. "I've had worse. I'll survive."

"I would hope so," Ben scoffed lightly, "considering that a bullet to the arm usually isn't fatal, just painful."

"Personally, I'm just thankful that those guys were awful shots," Eagle answered. "All of us would probably be dead if they had been any better."

Wolf snorted from behind the group as he, too, entered the kitchen. "_You _might be, Micah, but I think the rest of us would have been fine, all things considered."

"Alright, alright; so I was the only one of us to catch a stray bullet," Eagle admitted. "So what?"

The unit leader gave a wolfish grin. "Need I answer that?"

"No," he finally assented as Ben grinned and Snake chuckled. He really didn't need to be reminded of every time Snake had had to patch him up – both on duty as well as off duty. He wasn't exactly clumsy or accident-prone – he never would have made the SAS if that was the case – but he did seem to be the one who always got hurt even if everyone else came out of a situation without a scratch. "But it does make me wonder. Surely such a 'brilliant leader' as Mrs. Jones called him wouldn't employ soldiers with such horrible aim."

Ben shrugged. "We had Alex with us; they might have had strict orders that he was to be kept alive so they couldn't really take a good aim at us without risking hitting Alex."

Eagle frowned. "Maybe. You don't suppose they _let _us get away like the first time, do you? 'Cause if they did, then they probably have a plan to get him back again…"

"I had thought about that," Wolf stated. "But that's why we're here – in a safe house – with who-knows-how-many units constantly patrolling the area with four MI6 operatives and two units onsite. Obviously, Mrs. Jones had the same thought."

"And," Ben added under his breath, "they've actually decided to protect him for once…"

* * *

_3:31 AM, Three Days Later – The Safe House_

_Alex sprinted through the crowded streets of Time's Square, dodging the thousands of people who had gathered for the New Year's celebration. In five minute's time, he would be too late; in five minute's time, everyone in the square – everyone in the entire _city_ – would be dead. What a way to bring in the New Year, he thought, with thousands of people dying. He pushed and shoved his way through without bothering to apologize to the annoyed spectators. He had to make it in time; failing was not an option._

_As he approached the building, he inwardly groaned. Of _course_ there would have to be police at the entrance doors! But then he smiled. Coming from the other direction was his partner, and she was closing in faster than he was – she had seen him coming as well. In the split-second eye contact the two made, the plan was clear: She would distract the police by any means necessary while Alex continued into the building._

_It worked. In a matter of a minute, Alex was inside, taking the stairs two at a time. Out of breath, he reached the top – not a moment too soon, he noted, glancing at his watch and seeing he only had sixty seconds to stop that New Year's ball from starting its descent. He surged through the door, and, just as the last minute of the year began to tick down, he cut the power. With a sigh of relief, he dismantled the ball before starting back down the way he had come up – only this time, he was in no hurry; with the kind of destruction this thing would have caused, surely no one who knew about it would be stupid enough to stick around. As he descended the last few steps – panic now audible from the outside world due to the lack of electricity – he could just make out the silhouette of his partner leaning against the wall, waiting for him in the dim glow of the emergency lights inside the building that marked the emergency exits. He grinned as he approached her. "And you thought it was a close call the last time we worked together. How was _that _for a last minute rescue?"_

_When she didn't answer, he frowned. He dug around in one of the pockets of his black cargo pants for the small flashlight he carried there. Finding it and pulling it out, he clicked it on and shone it in the direction of his partner. His eyes instantly grew wide as the beam fell on the slightly older CIA agent. "T-Tamara?" he stuttered. He cautiously moved forward as if he didn't believe what he was seeing – which, at the moment, he didn't. She couldn't be dead…_

_Yet, there was no mistaking it. Eyes still wide as if she had somehow been caught unaware, there she stood, butcher knife through the heart, pinning her to the wall, blood soaked into her clothes. Though he already knew what he would find, he tentatively reached out his hand, pressing his shaking fingers to her neck in attempt to find some sign of life. As he let his hand fall limply back to his side, he sighed. _Tamara…

_He spun around, suddenly alert, at the sound of shattering glass. But, by the time the men dressed in black had swarmed into the building, Alex was long gone._

Alex shot awake as a clap of thunder shook the glass panes in the window. Glancing at the time on the clock, he slowly sat up, swinging his feet to the cold floor below as the last strains of the memory receded. _Tamara… _He had only worked with her a total of three times yet she had still fallen victim to the fate of everyone who seemed to come into contact with him… He shook his head as if trying to dislodge the images forever engrained there. It wasn't fair…

Lightening flashed again, followed closely by another clap of thunder. As the sound seemed to shake the very foundations of the house, Alex jumped slightly at the noise, his heart suddenly hammering against his ribs. Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to calm down. _It's only a storm, _he had to remind himself; _no one is shooting at you… _Resting his elbows on his knees, he allowed his head to fall forward until his face was buried in his hands.

It was going to be a long night…

* * *

_7:11 AM – The Safe House_

Alex was already sitting in the kitchen, nursing a cup of tea, when Wolf and Snake stumbled, slightly bleary-eyed, into the kitchen later that morning. Wolf poured himself a cup of tea without a word while Snake attempted to find anything that would make a suitable breakfast for the occupants of the house. As he moved about the kitchen, the medic spoke, directing his question to the teen. "Sleep well?" Of course, he already knew the _true _answer; the bags under the teen's eyes had yet to even begin to fade.

Alex shrugged, staring down into the tea he had yet to drink. He didn't have to tell anyone anything – and he didn't plan to, either. He had always been fine on his own, why start bringing in other people now? Especially considering what tended to happen to people when they started to get to know him…

Snake paused for a moment, taking in the teen's slumped shoulders and empty, tired eyes. He knew it was a lie but didn't press the matter as Squirrel and Eagle came into the kitchen. Unfortunately, Squirrel was no less observant and far blunter than his fellow medic.

"Man, Alex; you look like crap. Must not have slept well, huh?"

"I slept fine, thank you," he spoke quietly, his voice carefully emotionless.

Snake sighed inwardly. Questioning like that was certainly not going to get them anywhere with the teen. He opened his mouth to change the subject to a less volatile topic, but someone else beat him to speaking.

"Really. You really slept 'fine,' huh?"

Everyone turned to stare at Wolf. This was the second time they had seen the soldier show any kind of concern about the fifth member of his unit – the first having been when they first found him; to say they were surprised once again would have been an understatement. But Cub took it in stride as if he hadn't noticed.

"Yes. I did."

"Then explain to me why when I headed to bed after my half of the night shift that I heard you thrashing around in your sleep."

For a split second, Alex panicked – and it showed on his face; he hadn't known he had acted out in his sleep, especially since it hadn't been a particularly violent nightmare. But he quickly composed himself, sliding his practiced mask easily into place. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Wolf scoffed. "Right. Sure you don't. Just like you don't know about those bags under your eyes or the bruises that cover your body. Come on, Cub; I ain't stupid."

"I don't have to tell you anything," he slightly conceded, something akin to disgust lacing his tone.

Snake sighed audibly. "It might help if you talk about it, you know."

"There's nothing to talk about."

"Cub," Eagle spoke up, "tell me something: Why don't you trust us?"

"Who says I don't?" His emotionless mask was firmly in place once again.

"You're entire attitude towards us."

"It has nothing to do with trust. It's just none of your business."

"In other words," Wolf scoffed, "you don't trust us."

"Fine," Alex snapped, his mask irreparably cracking, as he sat up straighter in his chair. "No, I don't trust the lot of you. Happy now?"

"But… Why not?" Eagle coaxed.

"I don't trust anyone. Everyone I've ever trusted has gotten killed or betrayed me. So just let it well alone. I can handle it just fine on my own, just like I always have."

"Yeah," Wolf scoffed. "We can all see just how well you handle it."

Alex stood abruptly to his feet, slamming his mug down on the table, tea sloshing out over the side, his voice rising in volume as he spoke. "Why would I tell any of you anything when I don't trust you, huh? _I can handle it, alright?"_

Snake crossed his arms in front of him, leaning on the countertop behind him. "Give me one good reason for you not to trust us, Cub."

"You want a good reason?" His voice dropped dangerously low. "How about that you let _them _take me back? How's _that _for a reason?" His voice was steadily increasing in volume for the second time in the span of a few minutes. "How do I know you aren't working for them? How do I know you'll actually protect me when they come for me again when you didn't protect me the first time? How is _that _for a good reason? Huh?"

"That's exactly _why _you need to trust us, Cub," Snake spoke, his voice quiet. "We had no reason to not trust that doctor, but, now that we're holed up in a safe house, we know everyone here and that they aren't going to hand you back over. I don't know how I can prove it to you, but we _will _protect you – no matter the cost. Please, trust us, Alex."

Alex backed up several steps towards the doorway. _No. _He wouldn't trust them. He _couldn't _trust them… Thinking quickly, he came up with another reason – one none of them would be able to defend. "Yeah?" He was practically yelling now. "How can I trust someone when I don't even know their real names, huh? What about that? I don't even know who you are and you want me to trust you!" It had worked; as he looked around, taking in the SAS men's surprised expressions, he couldn't take any satisfaction in the response, however. Some part of him, after all, _did _want to trust them… But the memory from those early-morning hours quickly squelched any notion of ever trusting them, emotions he usually kept so well reserved threatening to surface. He turned to bolt back up to his room but was quickly restrained by someone catching hold of him in the doorway.

"Alex? What's going on in here? I heard yelling…"

Alex struggled fruitlessly against the older spy's firm grasp. "Let me go!"

Snake finally found his voice. "Let him go, Ben. It's okay."

As soon as Ben loosened his grip at all, Alex was gone. He bolted down the hallway and up the stairs, not stopping until he had slammed the door closed, shutting himself safely away in his room.

* * *

_"Followed my feet nowhere again,_  
_wherever I go there I am_  
_I'm stuck on this road,_  
_life just keeps passing me by_  
_What can I do to get from beyond_  
_these walls that are laughing at me?_  
_Sentenced to life and the prison is in my mind._

_"Losing my mind and I'm close to the edge,_  
_You can't stop me from running away._  
_Losing my mind and I'm close to the edge,_  
_Someone stop me from running away."_

_~Seventh Day Slumber: Running Away_

* * *

**A/N: **Alex is finally showing just how much everything has messed him up... Poor Alex... :(

_Challenges:  
- _How did Eagle get shot?  
- What challenges will Ben and K-Unit face in dealing with Alex?  
- Was Snake right to let Alex run out alone or should someone have followed?  
- Where is Kaul during all of this?

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	17. Chapter 16 Blind

**Disclaimer: **Dear Santa, If it wouldn't be too much trouble, I'd really like the rights to the Alex Rider series. Signed, an avid FAN.

**A/N: **I'm back with yet another exciting chapter! =D ... You don't sound too excited ... Well, seven people are, I know, since they reviewed (THANK YOU!). (Along with a couple other faves/alerts; THANK YOU to you guys too!) *sigh* Well, hope you enjoy.

**WARNING:** Possibly slightly triggering material this chapter. Just the first half, really; the second is all good to go. ;)

* * *

_"There's another world inside of me_  
_That you may never see_  
_There're secrets in this life_  
_That I can't hide_  
_Somewhere in this darkness_  
_There's a light that I can't find_  
_Maybe it's too far away_  
_Or maybe I'm just blind_

_"Or maybe I'm just blind..._

_"...Roaming through this darkness_  
_I'm alive but I'm alone_  
_Part of me is fighting this_  
_But part of me is gone"_

_~ Three Doors Down: When I'm Gone_

* * *

**Chapter Sixteen – Blind**

_4:23 PM, January 17__th__, Almost Three Years Earlier – San Francisco, California_

Alex sighed as he rinsed off a plate and set it aside to dry. He really didn't have to do the dishes by hand – the Pleasures _did _have a dishwasher, after all – but he had wanted something to do – anything to keep himself busy while Sabina and her parents were out. They had, of course, invited him to go with them, but he had solidly turned them down not wishing to be a damper on things. It was, after all, an occasion for celebration – something about a high score on some standardized test – and Alex couldn't stand the thought of pretending to be happy, of plastering a fake smile on his face for an entire night. He had congratulated her, of course, when she had come home with the results, but he just couldn't feel _happy _for her – he couldn't feel much of anything anymore, he conceded darkly, except for this persistent _numbness _that always seemed to inhabit his system.

And so they had left without him – though not for lack of trying on Sabina's part, leaving him utterly board on his own – which was precisely why he was doing the dishes when it was completely unnecessary. Vaguely he thought about how he should be doing his school work, but, somehow, washing dishes seemed like more fun.

He finished with the dishes in the sink quickly as there hadn't been very many of them to begin with and turned to the few he had collected from the island and had set beside the sink before he had started. He had thought about dumping all of it into the basin at the start but had quickly thought better about it considering a couple of very sharp knives he had picked up to wash. As he picked up the third knife, the handle slipped in his grasp and promptly sent the knife into the water which was still thick with soap suds. Alex frowned. Well, this was a problem; he couldn't just stick his hand into the water – the blade might be pointed up, and, in that case, he might just lose a finger or two… He shook his head with a sigh. How _else _was he going to get it out though? Very slowly he lowered his left hand back into the water where he thought the handle of the blade had fallen. He soon found it and closed his finger around what he assumed to be the handle.

He was mistaken.

With a hiss, he yanked his hand back out of the water to inspect the damage. Across his palm he found a straight, narrow, red line that quickly grew wider as blood collected at the surface. He knew he should get the emergency kit from the cupboard above the fridge, but as he stood staring, transfixed by the sight, he felt an odd sort of calm descend. It was strange, really, that after all the blood he had seen, that staring at his own was somehow different…

It was strange, he thought morbidly, because somehow it felt… _good…_

* * *

_8:56 AM, Present Time – The Safe House, Scotland_

Eagle sighed as he rinsed off the last plate. He hated washing dishes, but Wolf's brilliant idea of drawing straws had left him with the job. He turned away from the sink as he dried the last dish off only to almost drop it in surprise. He hadn't heard anyone come into the room. "Alex… You startled me."

"Sorry," the younger muttered as he took a glass out of the cupboard and moved towards the fridge.

Eagle frowned. "It's okay – I just didn't hear you come in, that's all…" He put the plate in the cupboard. "Look, Cub… About earlier…"

"I don't want to talk about it," Alex stated calmly as he took a jug of apple juice out of the fridge.

"Maybe not, but I think you _need _to talk about it. There's obviously something going on with you…"

"I'm fine."

"What I saw earlier was far from 'fine,' Alex."

"So I over-reacted. So what?"

"See, I've been thinking about that," Eagle stated, scratching his chin in thought. "I don't think you did. I think it was perfectly justified. In the world you live in, Alex… I can understand why you would be wary. Regardless –," he paused, holding out his hand for Alex to shake, "– my name is Micah Boyde. I'm twenty-seven years old. I lived in London for most of my life after my father got a job there. I have an older sister and had a younger brother. I decided to join the SAS after I had served in the army for several years. As a member of K-Unit, I function as the language and communications specialist."

Alex stared at the outstretched hand, unsure exactly how to react. A formal introduction had been the last thing he had expected. He took a half-step back. "This doesn't change anything," he muttered, finally finding his voice. "It doesn't change anything… This doesn't mean I trust you!"

Eagle sighed slightly, deflated, letting his hand fall back to his side. "I didn't think it would, Alex. I guess… Well, I just hoped that maybe it could be some kind of start. You've been through enough, Cub; you need someone you can go to."

"No, I don't," he snapped. "I am doing just _fine _all on my own! I can take care of myself!"

"I don't doubt that. But you're only eighteen; you shouldn't have to."

Alex scoffed. "I'm legally an adult."

"Even adults need someone to turn to."

"I don't have to stand here and take this." Alex turned to leave, empty glass and jug of juice abandoned on the counter top.

"Alex, please. Wait a second." Eagle reached out and grabbed his wrist to halt his escape. The teen instantly tried to jerk away, but the SAS man held firm.

"Why are you so determined to make me talk to you? I don't need to talk to _anyone!"_ Alex snapped as he continued to try to twist his wrist from the older man's grasp.

"It's obvious you do," Eagle responded calmly, tightening his grip slightly as Alex continued to struggle against his hold. "According to Ben, you've seen more in the last few years than anyone should ever see in a lifetime and –." He cut off abruptly, suddenly letting go of Alex's wrist. He stared down at his hand, eyebrows furrowing. _Blood._ He had blood on his hand – not an extraneous amount, but enough to concern him about _where _it had come from. He looked up to see that Alex was also staring at the man's hand, a look of horror evident in his countenance. "Cub…"

Alex couldn't help but stare. This was _not _happening – not again! Once again, he felt that all-too familiar feeling that came whenever someone even came close to discovering his vice – _vulnerability. _His breath caught in his throat. Not again…

"_No matter how much I want it, Sab, I can't change the past!"_

"_I'm not saying that you can! But you don't have to live in the past, Alex! You can move forward! –."_

"_You don't know what you're talking about!"_

_She reached out and grabbed his wrist in attempt to stop his retreat into his room – and instantly pulled her hand away again as if she had been shocked. "A-Alex?" she whispered staring at her hand._

_Alex stared back in horror at the reason she had pulled back from him. When she finally met his gaze again, he stated coldly, "You can't tell _anyone. _Understood?"_

"_But, Alex," she choked out._

"_NO! You don't tell _anyone _about this! I'd explain why I need this, but you don't listen anyway so there's no point. Just _don't, _Sabina. I mean it."_

Alex turned and bolted – or at least, he tried to bolt. He hadn't gotten more than two steps before he felt Eagle snag him around the waist, grabbing his forearms and pinning them to his sides at the same time. He tried to lash out with his feet, but the SAS man knocked his own knee into Alex's causing it to buckle so Eagle could force him down to the floor. By this point, Alex was fairly panicking. He had to get away!

"Calm down, Alex," Eagle spoke gently next to his ear. "Calm down; it's okay."

"Let me go!" Alex continued to struggle, his breaths coming raggedly, sporadically.

"You know I can't do that. 'Cause if I do, you'll go hide in your room and hurt yourself. I can't let you go, Alex, until you calm down." When Alex continued to struggle, Eagle continued to talk softly. "It's okay, alright? It's not a big deal. I'm not gonna say anything to anyone else. I just need you to calm down for me, okay? Just take a deep breath and calm down…"

Alex gradually gave up on his futile fighting, sagging tiredly against the soldier behind him. "You can't tell anyone… Please," he eventually whispered.

"You don't have to worry, Cub; I won't say a word unless you give me permission. But I do want you to promise me something, okay?"

"That depends on what you want."

Eagle grinned slightly. "Well, first I want you to promise you won't run if I let go."

"Fine."

"Okay." Eagle slowly released his grasp on the teen, noting with growing unease that Cub's sleeve now had a dark stain on it. He moved around so they were sitting face-to-face on the kitchen floor. "Okay, now; second thing. I want you to promise me that you'll be safe about this whole thing. Clean tool, clean up your wrist afterwards. Think you can handle that?"

Alex could only stare at the man in front of him. After what had happened with Sabina, that had been the last thing he had expected to hear. She had been close to hysterical; Eagle seemed perfectly calm, almost as if he had already known. Slowly, he nodded.

Eagle sighed in relief. "Good. Then I see no reason to say anything to anyone about this."

"I don't understand," Alex mumbled, looking away.

Eagle cocked his head to the side. "What don't you understand?"

"You're not just telling me to stop…"

Eagle grinned. "I know better than that. I can't make you stop, Cub; only you can do that. But, if you really feel the need for it, then the least I can do is make sure you don't end up with an infection because of it. Because then we would have to get Snake involved. And I know you don't want that." He paused for a second before moving to his feet though staying crouched down next to Alex. "So, you want to clean up your wrist yourself or you want me to?"

Alex sighed, continuing to avoid eye contact. "I'll do it…"

"Okay. There's a First-Aid kit above the sink." He stood up. Pausing in the doorway he added, "Oh, and Cub? If you ever do decide you want to talk, I'll be around." Without another word, the SAS man left Alex alone in the kitchen.

* * *

_1:46 PM – The Safe House_

"I think we all need to introduce ourselves _by name _to Alex."

Ben looked up, startled, at the man standing in the doorway of the room he shared with another agent. "What makes you say that, Micah?"

"Because we need to establish some form of trust with the kid. As long as he doesn't know our real names, he will convince himself that that is the reason he can't trust us. I know he'll probably just keep coming up with BS reasons even after, but it's worth a shot, isn't it?"

Ben slowly nodded. "Maybe… But we're all on duty; you, being in the SAS, aren't even to supposed to know each other's real names in the first place, not to mention using them while on duty."

Eagle thought for a moment before replying. "I ran into him earlier today, when I got stuck cleaning up after breakfast. Just on a whim, I introduced myself. He didn't know how to react, I think. Surely, he didn't expect it but… I don't know… It almost seemed like something changed after I told him a little bit about myself… It kinda evened the playing field, I guess, since we already know some about him." He sighed. "Besides, who's gonna know if we don't use our code names?"

Ben sighed. "Well… I certainly won't say a word. Let's see if we can everyone up here, then I'll go in alone, first, since he has some measure of trust in me – that way we won't overwhelm him just by storming in all at once." He stood up from the desk chair and, as he passed his former teammate on the way out, clapped him on the shoulder. "Let's hope this works…"

Twenty minutes later found a group of eight SAS soldiers and four agents standing outside of Alex's bedroom door.

"I'm still not sure this is a good idea, Ben," one of the other agents, Chris Adair, stated quietly.

"If this'll get him to trust us even marginally," Ben replied, "then you will do it." He knocked on the door and, after hearing a gruff "What?" from the other side, opened it and entered the room. "Hey," he spoke quietly, closing the door behind him.

"Ben," came the emotionless reply from where the teen spy lay sprawled on his stomach on his bed.

"Can we talk for moment?"

Alex shrugged. "Whatever."

Ben perched on the edge of the bed. "Well… You see, there are a few people I'd like you to meet."

Alex looked up, puzzled. "More people being crammed into this place? Jeez, aren't there enough of us already?"

Ben smiled slightly. "Not exactly…" He turned towards the door. "Come on in, men." In a single-file line, the SAS and MI6 employees entered the room, lining the wall.

Alex sat up, staring at them. "What in the world is going on?"

The first person to speak was Wolf. "Corporal* David Smola. Aged thirty. Served in the Army for a number of years before transferring to the SAS. Weapons expert and leader of K-Unit."

Snake was next. "Lance-corporal Scott Graham. Aged twenty-eight. Also served in the Army for several years before transferring. Studied emergency medicine at Uni, thus leading to my status as the medic of K-Unit."

As the men lining the wall continued to introduce themselves, Alex could only stare in wonder. What in the world had happened for them to want to introduce themselves to him? He wanted to believe that Eagle – no, _Micah_ – hadn't said anything about earlier, but that was the only reason he could come up with for this.

"Private Kyle Sarnelli," Squirrel spoke. "Aged twenty-five. I am only in my first year of service to the SAS, but serve as M-Unit's medic."

"Agent Peter Trask. Aged thirty-three. I have worked with MI6 for many years after having been seconded from MI5. I was assigned here after having been a part of the original rescue team that lost your trail in Senegal."

"Agent Trevor Chadwick. Aged twenty-six. I had completed enough successful missions to be allowed on the original rescue search almost a year ago, and so was also assigned here since I already had been cleared to know about Britain's best-kept secret."

The final man in the room stepped forward. "Agent Chris Adair. Aged twenty-three. I was about to join the Royal Army when MI6 approached me about a position with them. I, too, was a member of the original search team as they thought it would be good experience for me."

For a moment, no one spoke; no one moved. Then, in a shaky whisper, Alex broke the silence. "This doesn't mean I trust you lot…"

Ben sighed, standing up from the bed. "Maybe not, Alex, but at least now you can't use that for your reason. Look, we're not looking for a fight. But if that's how this is going to go, then we're going to fight. We _want _to protect you, Alex, but it's going to be exceedingly difficult for us to do so if you don't trust us. Do you remember when we were in Ghana?" Alex nodded curtly. "I didn't leave you behind then, and we won't now, either. Now, either you can trust us just enough or fight against us. The latter will only make it that much more difficult for us to reside together for however long need be."

"We're on your side, Cub," Snake stated quietly. "Why do you insist on fighting your allies?"

Alex stared down at his hands. He had to admit: That was a good question. Why _was _he fighting so hard against them? After all, _trusting them to protect him_ wasn't the same thing as _letting down all of his walls._ He could trust them that much and still keep everything to himself. …Couldn't he?

He glanced back up as he heard the men filing back out of the room until only Ben and Wolf remained. "By the way," Wolf added, almost as an after-thought, "we're all on a first-name basis now. We may be on duty, but who is gonna know?" He grinned slightly before following the others out.

Ben paused in the doorway. "You know, Alex, even the best have their limits; even the most skilled spy needs an outlet. It's your choice." The older spy disappeared into the hall, pulling the door shut behind him.

Alex unconsciously grabbed his left wrist, teeth clenching. "I'm perfectly _fine _on my own,"he whispered to himself. "Perfectly _fine…"_

* * *

_3:54 PM, UK Time – An Undisclosed Location_

Duval swallowed harshly, staring at the back of his leader's head. "Sir? You… You aren't going to kill me, are you? Like you were going to kill Bouchard?"

Kaul laughed lightly. "No, Duval. Bouchard was a real piece of work who failed spectacularly. Losing Rider this time was my fault entirely; we should have evacuated when you first alerted me of the military's presence. For that reason, I am making you my second in command – you have a good head on your shoulders, and I could really use someone like that as my advisor. Therefore, you may also address me as 'Sanjeet' or 'Kaul.' Whichever you prefer."

Duval smirked. "Thank you, sir – I mean, Kaul. But what are we going to do about the Rider dilemma?"

"All in good time, Duval," Kaul cackled. "I have already dealt with the problem; it is just a matter of waiting for the right moment to strike. You see, Duval, I had already analyzed all possible situations before I started on this project. I have already covered every possible angle, in the case of something going wrong – so nothing can wrong."

"Then, no matter what happens, that means we will always be one step ahead of them?"

Kaul nodded once. "Ahead of MI6. Ahead of the CIA. Ahead of the ASIS. Ahead of everyone! They may believe that they have the upper hand, but they can _never possibly _have it, because _I _always have a back-up plan!"

Duval chuckled. "Brilliant! So, what is this plan, exactly? If I am allowed to know, of course…"

"You are allowed to know everything now, but I will tell you when the right time comes for you to know." Duval nodded once as Kaul started to chuckled again.

"At least Bouchard was good for that much! Even from his grave, he will have his revenge on Alex Rider!"

* * *

**A/N: **I only introduced the characters that are going to keep coming up constantly in future chapters - well except for Ben and Eagle(Micah) because Alex already knew their names before that scene. And, yes, their real names will be used in future chapters, but don't worry; I'll remind you who's who. ;)  
Alex is also the only one who doesn't share a room in the safe house. K- and M-Units are split between four rooms and the other MI6 guys are split between two rooms. (It's a very large house...)**  
***I looked up SAS ranks, but I wasn't really sure how high on the proverbial food chain they would be, so I guessed... It's not really that important of a detail though so I didn't worry too much about it.

_Challenges:  
_- Significance of the the title, Blind?  
- Will Eagle be able to keep his word to Alex? Why or why not?  
- What is the plan Kaul has for getting Alex back?

Review = Preview (and a super-happy author ;))


	18. Chapter 17 The Past

**Disclaimer: **Definitely not mine. If it was, I'd probably get chapters out on a more regular basis. Scratch that, I wouldn't be posting on here in the first place.

**A/N: **Oh my goodness! I can't apologize enough for how long this chapter has taken! But, in all honesty, I'm not happy with it - hence why it took so long: I was trying to fix it. But, after playing with it for a couple of weeks, I decided that this was as good as it was going to get. Consider yourselves lucky that it's still about normal length; I thought after I got rid of everything I wasn't half-way happy that it was going to be really, really short. Anyway...

As usual, THANK YOU to my lovely reviewers! I love you all! ... I was going to say something else here and now I can't remember what... *shrug* Oh YEAH! I was gonna say sorry for no preview... I decided on a whim to post this today...

WARNING: Triggering material.

* * *

**Chapter Seventeen – The Past**

_10:23 AM, August 31__st__, Over Three Years Earlier – San Francisco, California_

Alex sighed slightly as he glared over at Sabina out of the corner of his eye. She just had to go and tell her parents, didn't she? Why did he have to let down the next wall to her? Never again, he decided. He would just keep everything to himself like he had been before now.

"…And we think it would be a good idea for you to talk to someone," Mrs. Pleasure concluded. "I've already made the appointment for early next week."

Alex's attention snapped back to what the woman was saying as a few key words filtered through his consciousness. _Talk to someone. Appointment. _They weren't giving him a choice. "You're sending me to a _shrink?"_ he bit out, barely hiding his irritation. "Well, I've got news for you: I don't want to talk to anyone and certainly not someone who couldn't possibly understand. I'm still under the OSA; officially, I'm not allowed to say anything, anyway."

"Not about your missions, maybe," Mr. Pleasure conceded, "but it still might help to work through what you're feeling…"

"Like I said – it's pointless to talk to someone who can't understand. They can't understand because I can't tell them."

"Would it hurt you to try?" Sabina asked in a small voice.

"You all obviously don't get it. _It's all connected._ Besides, I'm handling myself just fine." He stood up. "I don't need help managing which is all they would be able to do."

"Alex…" He turned to glare at Sabina. "Please? Just try it once?"

"I believe I just said that I don't need help."

"You're going, Alex." The teen turned to stare Mr. Pleasure. "I know you may not want to, but you _are going to go _regardless."

"No."

"Yes."

"You can't make me!" Alex knew it was a childish reply, but, at the moment, he really didn't care.

"Really," Mr. Pleasure returned. "I seem to remember that a certain document that I signed stated that until you are of age that you are under my authority. So you will go. End of story."

Without another word, Alex turned and stormed out of the room, back up the stairs to his bedroom, slamming the door closed once he was inside. This was _so not _happening…. He collapsed tiredly onto his bed, wishing fervently that he had never said anything to Sabina. But then a thought occurred to him that almost made him smile.

Just because he had to go didn't mean he had to talk.

* * *

_1:53 PM, January 16__th__ – San Francisco_

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Pleasure," the psychologist stated tiredly. "But I simply cannot help someone who doesn't want to be helped. It doesn't matter how many more sessions he comes to, nothing is going to change as long as he refuses to speak – or, on the rare occasion that he does, the answer is so vague and riddled that I can't make heads or tails of it." He sighed. "I'm sorry, but I feel the best course of action would be for me to drop Alex as a client."

Mrs. Pleasure nodded vaguely. "I understand. After all, this wouldn't be the first time…"

"Believe me, I wish there was something I could do, but there just _isn't. _ Some people… I guess you could say they're so lost in themselves that – literally – no one is able help. They haven't been able to develop proper skills for coping or communication so they have no way of acquiring help – even if they may realize that they need it."

"And you think this is the case with Alex?"

"It's hard to say. It might be, or he might just honestly think he doesn't need help. The response I've been seeing since the beginning could fit either scenario. Either way, I don't think it would be wise for you to continue to force him to see someone when it's obviously doing more harm than good. Forced therapy can cause someone to retreat further into themselves which only makes the problem worse. The best advice I can give you is to let him be, and, with enough time, he may begin to open up."

* * *

_2:02 AM, January 19__th__ – San Francisco_

Alex started awake, the last strains of the horrendous nightmare quickly fading to the furthest part of his consciousness – yet he couldn't completely shake it. He still felt the pain that came with remembering, his stomach still twisted painfully, nauseatingly. When most people had nightmares, they weren't real; but his? Even after the images had faded, he still had the memory seared into his mind, and the memory always came awake where the nightmare ended. He couldn't escape no matter how hard he tried.

Sitting up, he swung his feet to the floor, and, resting his elbows on his knees, he allowed his face to fall into his hands. He tried to shut out the memory, to steady his ragged breathing. But the more he tried to calm down, the less it worked. His stomach continued to twist tighter and tighter, making it harder to breath, until he felt like he was going to throw up. He hated this feeling; he just wanted all of this to go away!

Vaguely, an idea came to mind. An idea that he found himself start to dwell on until it consumed half of his attention. _Something that would help him calm down._ He honestly hadn't thought much about it since that kitchen accident, but now he recalled that strange sort of calm…

Without really thinking through what he was about to do, he stood up abruptly and moved to his desk. Pulling open the top drawer, he lifted out the switch blade his uncle had given him many years before. He flipped out the blade, and, without a second thought, quickly ran the sharp edge over the exposed skin of his left wrist.

At first, he didn't feel anything except a sudden, sharp pain that raced up his forearm. But, within a minute, the same calm he had felt the other day started to settle over him. He almost smiled as he placed the cold metal to his wrist again and, more slowly this time, dug the sharp edge into his flesh. It hurt, to be sure, but it calmed him at the same time, helped him push the horrid memories back so he wouldn't have to deal with them.

And that was all that mattered.

* * *

_3:21 PM, February 27__th __– San Francisco_

"I'm sorry this didn't work out like we had planned."

Alex scoffed. "Right. I'm so sure of that."

Mr. Pleasure sighed, leaning against the doorframe as he watched the teen finish packing. "I wanted this to work, Alex; I really did. But it's just… _not. _ We need to face the fact that this potentially wasn't the right move to make…"

"If you really wanted this to work," Alex snorted, halting his packing to meet the man's gaze, "then you wouldn't be sending me back to _them."_

Mr. Pleasure was about to continue trying to reason with the youth when their conversation was interrupted by the doorbell ringing. A moment later, voices filtered up to them followed by footsteps ascending the stairs. Mrs. Pleasure appeared at his doorway.

"Alex, your ride is here."

As the man stepped into view, Alex had to stop his jaw from hitting the floor. _No way! _There was _no way _that he was flying all the way back to London with _him…_

"Don't look so surprised, Alex," the man greeted smoothly. "You already knew that bullet didn't kill me. At least I had hoped 'the bank' would have informed you of that…"

"I forced them to tell me," Alex gritted out, dropping his gaze to the floor. "I had hoped I wouldn't see you after that, Ben…"

Ben frowned. "That wasn't your fault, you know."

Alex only shrugged as he shoved what little remained into his suitcase and zipped it up. "Whatever. Let's just go." He stood and, as he pushed his way out the now-crowded doorway, muttered sarcastically, "Wouldn't want to miss the flight. That would be horrid."

* * *

_12:42 PM, March 1__st__ – London, England_

A swift knock came at the door. Without bothering to look up from his work, Sanjeet Kaul answered. "Yes?"

"Sir, I have a message for you," the butler stated from behind the door. "It's from a Mister Adair."

Kaul stood quickly to open the door. "Thank you very much," he stated pleasantly, taking the folded piece of paper the man procured.

"Sir." The butler bowed slightly before walking away.

Kaul closed the door and locked it before crossing the room and pulling the curtains closed as well. Then he opened the note.

_Mister Phillips:_

_I think we should hunt again soon for that fox that escaped us last year. I believe he has returned to his old den – and I know exactly how to catch him off guard. Let's meet tomorrow, our regular place, to discuss details._

_ Mister Adair_

Kaul smiled. Then he began to chuckle. This was simply too perfect! His inside man had come through for him yet again! He quickly shredded the note before placing it in the ash tray and lighting it on fire with his lighter. He chuckled again. Now he wouldn't have to bother to fly to the States to get what he wanted; what he wanted had – quite literally – come right back to him.

Alex Rider was back in London.

* * *

_1:01 PM, March 1__st__ – The Royal and General, London_

"I am very sorry the arrangement with the Pleasures didn't work, Alex," Mrs. Jones stated. "But, it is good to have you back. You see, we already have a matter at hand that your excellence would be most beneficial to…"

"No."

"Excuse me?"

"I said: No. I thought we had an understanding here. I'm done with this world."

"Alex, a lot of people –."

" – could be killed," he interrupted. "Like I haven't heard that before. Well, you'll have to send someone else, because I'm not going."

"Alex… I wouldn't send you if I had another choice…"

Alex sighed inwardly, showing no emotion in his cold eyes outwardly. Inside he knew he would never be able to escape reality: He was a spy, born and bred, and he would never be able to live away from this world. So, he supposed, he might as well embrace it… After all, what did he have to lose? "I haven't been back in the country for even twenty-four hours," he scoffed lightly. "I knew there had to be a reason you would willingly take me back. Fine. Just brief me and get it over with."

"Now before you keep protesting I think you should –. What?" Mrs. Jones barely hid her surprise as the teen's words finally sunk in.

"I said I would do it. Now just tell me what I need to know so I can get out of here."

Mrs. Jones could only stare. He had given in; no blackmail, no bribes. He had simply accepted. Something in the head's consciousness warned her that she should change her mind and keep Alex out of this world like she had promised herself she would. But he was too good at what he did. And, while he had matured and lost his boy-like looks that had been useful in the past, a young man would be just as useful and just as unexpected. In fact, the head reasoned, in this case it would be even more useful. Breaking out or her momentary stupor, she slid open the top drawer of her desk and took out a manila folder. "Everything you need to know is in here. You'll be leaving in three days' time."

Alex accepted the folder as he stood from his chair. "And I'll be allowed to stay in my uncle's house while I'm here?"

Mrs. Jones nodded once. "Under the circumstances, I think that would be best. What with the short notice of your return, we haven't had a chance to try to locate someone to be your guardian. For the time being, at least, you will have that allowance."

Alex turned to leave with a nod. "And Alex?" He stopped, turning only his head back to face the woman.

"It really is good to have you back." Was that almost a smile he saw pulling at the corners of her lips?

He closed the door behind him and started the seemingly long trek back down the corridor to the lift. Of course it was good to have him back; it's always good to have your secret weapon return for a second, permanent round. As the lift door closed, he sighed in defeat.

There was no backing out now.

* * *

_4:03 PM, March 3__rd__ – Ian's House in Chelsea_

"You can't possibly expect me to stay here." Tom stood with his arms folded over his chest in Alex's bedroom, staring down at his best friend.

"Yes. Actually I do," Alex responded from where he sat on his bed. "And if you don't agree, then I will lock you in the closet – and don't think I won't, 'cause you know I will."

"Why can't I?"

"You already know why," Alex whispered, averting his gaze to the floor boards.

Ton sat down beside him. "Fine. I'll stay here. I won't like it, though. I never have liked it."

"I know," Alex muttered. "Thank you. I just don't want anyone else getting hurt because of me."

"And what about_you_, Alex? Every time you go on one of these missions, you come back a little more damaged. What about _you_ getting hurt?"

Alex shrugged. "Someone has to do it, Tom."

"Yeah, but it doesn't have to be you, Alex! Let someone else worry about it for once!"

"It's not that simple. You know that."

Tom stood up abruptly. "I don't care! I don't care if it's being selfish – I want my best friend back! You know, the guy I used to play football and Xbox with! But you can't be that Alex anymore! 'Cause with every bloody mission you go on, you seem to lose a little bit yourself! You know, I was sad when you left for San Francisco; but I was relieved too! I was relieved because _they _wouldn't be able to continue destroying my best mate! What happened, Alex? I though you didn't want this life…"

He shrugged again. "You can't escape reality, Tom. My uncle trained me for this life; you can't escape fate, either."

Tom scoffed. "And here I though you didn't believe in fate."

"I don't."

"You just contradicted yourself, mate."

"Well, I have to believe in something, don't I? And I certainly don't believe in God. So that doesn't leave much, does it?"

Tom fell silent. "I don't get you, mate; I don't get you at all. You risk your life for people you hate who use and abuse you, for a world that will never even know who you are. Why? Why do you keep torturing yourself?"

Alex chewed on his bottom lip for a moment before slowly responding. "I guess some part of me still wants to believe that the whole world isn't as bad as it seems. If I can help eliminate the bad, then – just maybe – eventually all that will be left is the good." He paused. "And yet, the logical part of my brain says, 'How stupid can you be?' 'cause there's no such thing as being able to eliminate the bad." He gave a short, humorless laugh. "In fact, there is no 'good' or 'bad,' Tom. It's all a matter of whose side you're on. 'Murderer' can so easily be turned into 'hero' if you do it for the supposed 'greater good.'" He shook his head sadly.

"Truthfully, Tom? I don't know why I do it anymore."

* * *

_4:37 PM, March 3__rd__ – Smith's Square Café and Restaurant, London_

"All the necessary preparations have been made then?"

"Of course, Mr. Phillips; Mr. Rider will be flying out of the country tomorrow morning; chances are good that no one will notice Mr. Harris' temporary leave of absence – his mother is also out of the country on a vacation on which he wasn't allowed to go because he would miss too much school. The school, of course, will notice but will have no one to contact about his absence until his mother returns – which won't happen as she is not due to return until long after we will have no more use of Mr. Harris."

"And you can assure that Mr. Rider will be back before then?"

The man waved a hand dismissively. "The conflict he has been sent to settle is one of my own making; it should take someone with his skills and intellect perhaps a fortnight to wrap up – but certainly no longer than that."

"And you will know exactly when he returns?"

"Of course," the man chuckled. "The same way I knew when he returned from the States! Believe me, sir; this will work."

Sanjeet Kaul grinned menacingly. "You know, Mr. Adair, you could end up in a very high position indeed… If this succeeds."

"I can promise you it will. Alex Rider is as good as yours!"

* * *

_7:56 PM, March 18__th__ – Smith's Square Café and Restaurant, London_

"You were right; that worked _marvelously!"_ Kaul praised gleefully.

Adair grinned. "I told you we would get what we needed. Rider gave us everything you wanted."

"Yes," Kaul chuckled, "he did, indeed, and he didn't even know it! Once his loyalty is won over to our cause, we will certainly have the most dangerous weapon _they_ ever created!"

"Intensely loyal to friends and country and cause." Adair nodded. "I only hope you will be able to win him over."

Kaul laughed lightly. "If he doesn't, we'll simply have a bargaining chip to get what we want instead! Although, I will admit that I am unsure if _they _will want him back after we're through. But I am not worried about that. Children and teens are easily manipulated – and Alex Rider is no exception. In fact, I would almost dare to say that he is more so than most. After all, look how easily _they _were able to get him to work for them in the first place, or how a certain person made him believe that his father was on their side when he was really a double agent. No, I have confidence that, given enough time, he will break like straw between my fingers!"

"That was a nice touch, by the way," Adair commented idly after a moment of silence, "killing Harris."

Kaul shrugged. "He had seen us; he was a liability."

"And if Rider had actually provided the Intel you requested?"

"I still would have killed him for the same reason. As a matter of fact, I would have shot Rider as well. Can't have someone who hands over government secrets at the snap of their fingers, after all. No, it's much more beneficial to us this way, anyway. Rider is the best the world has ever seen. And I_ will_ have him."

Adair grinned. "Shall we move to the next phase then?"

"Yes," Kaul assented. "We are now ready for Phase Three."

* * *

_"Where ya gonna be tomorrow?_  
_How ya gonna face the sorrow?_  
_Where ya gonna be when you die?_  
_'Cause nothing's gonna last forever_  
_And things they change like the weather_  
_They're gone in the blink of an eye_

_"Just look at yourself, can you see where you are?_  
_Look at yourself, now you can't hide the scars_  
_Just look at yourself 'cause there's nowhere to go_  
_And you know_

_"Tomorrow_  
_You're gonna have to live with the things you say_  
_Tomorrow_  
_You'll have to cross bridges that you burned today_  
_Tomorrow..._  
_And everything you do, it's coming back for you_  
_You'll never outrun what waits for you_  
_Tomorrow."_

_~Sixx: A.M.: Tomorrow_

* * *

**A/N: **No challenges this time because this chapter was just to try to tie up a few loose ends...

_**TO ALL MY FAITHFUL READERS:**_ If you haven't read an A/N yet, I hope you read this one. I'm going to take the month of November off for NaNoWriMo - or at least attempt to anyway... Wish me luck!

Happy Halloween all! :)


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